Time is Eternity
by Gmariam
Summary: When Ianto Jones stepped into the Rift in the House of the Dead, he intended to close it forever. He did not expect to tumble through and find himself trapped in his own past. He had to return to his own time, but what did the future hold for a man who was already dead? Yet another death, or perhaps a second chance at life?
1. Lost

_Note: This story begins immediately following the BBC radio play __The House of the Dead__, though most of the tale takes place during the latter half of Series 2._

I. Lost

"Good bye, Jack."

A blinding flash of brilliant white light—_how cliché—_an explosion of unbearable pain—_ again?—_and the sensation of millions of atoms, his very being, breaking apart yet somehow, incredibly, coming together again as _him…_

And with a shocking gasp, life flooded into lungs starved for air, warmth returned to limbs frozen with cold. Sound and color swirled around him, a confused blur of someplace he recognized, someplace he knew.

Torchwood. The Hub.

Ianto Jones was in the Hub. How he had got there, he wasn't quite sure…and then he remembered that the Hub had been destroyed, completely reduced to rubble by the bomb set within Jack. Ianto stopped wondering how he got there and wondered instead _when _he was, because obviously he was in the past: this was _his_ Hub, not some distant future where their ruined base had been miraculously rebuilt.

_Shit,_ he thought. He wasn't even supposed to be alive, yet alone stuck in the past. He was supposed to be dead. He was supposed to have closed the Rift, saved the world, been blown to oblivion while the magic pebbles of Wales sang him to his death…his second death.

He had died before. He remembered it now, all of it.

Yet there he was, sprawled out on the floor of the autopsy bay, cold and weak and confused as hell. Damn Syriath, damn the Rift…and damn Jack for doing this to him in the first place.

Standing gingerly, Ianto was relieved to see that he was alone, and that no one appeared to have noticed anything. That was, until Tosh poked her head over the railing and frowned down at him, eyes wide behind her glasses.

"Ianto? Are you all right?" she asked. "I just picked up a major Rift spike right in the middle of the autopsy bay."

He stared at her. Tosh—alive and breathing, not bleeding out her life on the autopsy floor. He had scrubbed away her blood, washing the stones clean with his tears, and yet there she was, gazing down at him with confusion and concern. Tosh.

God, it was so good to see her he could have cried. He suddenly understood so much better Jack's desperate trip to the House of the Dead.

And then it occurred to him that _he _might be up there, his past self living in whatever time this was, and he knew enough about timelines to know he couldn't run into himself, not without all sorts of tense-tangling temporal disturbances. So he shook his head emphatically, to try and get her down there without anyone else seeing him first. "A little help would be nice."

Tosh hurried down the stairs, yet she slowed down as she approached him. "You look different," she said, speaking softly as if her instincts somehow knew something was not right. "You weren't wearing that suit when you left…and you look older, somehow." She stopped coming any closer, even took a step backward. "Who are you?"

Ianto took a deep breath. "I _am_ Ianto Jones, Tosh. I swear to you, I am. I'm just…well…I'm from another time."

"Another time?" she asked skeptically.

"I fell into the Rift," he said, even though he had stepped willingly into it, trying to destroy it. Obviously she did not need to know that, not yet. "And now I'm here, only it's different. Where is everyone else?"

"Gwen is home with Rhys, Owen is out, and I thought you just went to get the pizza," she said, still sounding a bit wary. Of course she would, given some of the more unusual things they saw at Torchwood. He could be anything—someone from the past, from the future, an alien shapeshifter trying to kill them all. She was right to have her guard up, though it hurt to know that she didn't trust him, even if it was a future him she didn't really know.

"And Jack?" asked Ianto.

"In his office, of course." Ianto nodded in relief. So right now Tosh was the only one who had seen him. Maybe if he didn't reveal too much, he wouldn't damage the timeline too much. Not that he wouldn't mind changing it completely: here was Tosh, alive and well.…and Owen…Ianto could change all that, with a few simple words of warning. Yet he couldn't, because he knew the consequences of time travel. He had to stay unseen, the future unknown, and somehow get back to his own time.

The problem was, he had no time. He'd been called back from death and stepped into the Rift, and now he was alive in his past. Where did he go? What did he go back to?

"I think I need your help," he said slowly. "I need to get back to where I belong_._"

"But where's that? Or when?" asked Tosh. "What's going on, Ianto?"

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "I told you—I was brought here by the Rift. I jusy need to get back before I do any more damage than I have already in crossing my own timeline."

"But you haven't done anything more than talk to me," she protested, then stopped as they heard footsteps above them. Tosh's eyes went wide, and she motioned him to hide, somewhere, anywhere. Ianto slipped under the autopsy table as she threw a sheet over it, and he heard someone at the railing.

"Tosh, is Jack still in his office?" It was him—his past self. Ianto felt his skin crawl, like an electric current was giving him goose pimples, and he suddenly remembered feeling the exact same way as his past self once long ago, when he had asked Tosh the same question one late night in the Hub.

Ianto almost wanted to poke his head out and see his past self, but he knew he couldn't. His heart racing, he waited while Tosh hurriedly sent his past self away. When she finally ducked her head under the table, her eyes were wide.

"This is very, very bad."

"You don't know the half of it," Ianto murmured. Because he wasn't even supposed to be alive, yet alone trapped in his own past. "What's the date?"

He was slightly stunned to find it was only a few months before her death. When she saw the look on his face, she knelt down on the floor in front of him. "Why do you look like that?" she demanded. "What happens?"

"Tosh, you know I can't tell you," he said, running a hand through his hair as he tried to understand what had happened, what to do about it, and how to not change the future even though he desperately wanted to. "I just have to figure out a way to get out of here, back to where I belong." _Wherever that is. Whenever._

"Right, of course," she said, nodding. "Sorry. I know that. Well, when did you come from?"

He could tell her that, right? If he was going to go back, he had to tell someone. He had no idea how to get back, though, except through the Rift…and then it occurred to him, that if he went back to the moment he left, the same thing might just keep happening, like some nightmare version of a time loop, where he kept going back into the House of the Dead to close the Rift only to have it spit him out back at the Hub over and over again.

"It's complicated," he murmured. "I'm not really sure what I can tell you without making it worse."

"If we're going to get you back, I need to know something," she replied.

"Yes, I know, but it's _really_ complicated." He gave her a very pointed look, and she slowly nodded.

"Then maybe we should talk to Jack," she said softly. "He's had the most experience with time travel, after all. Not that he's told us much, but still. He might know something."

Ianto sighed. As much as he wanted to see Jack, he didn't know how safe it would be to reveal himself to someone else. And it would be difficult: the last time he had talked to Jack, Jack had been a broken shell of the man he once was. He had come to the pub to destroy the Rift, but more importantly, he had come to end it all. Jack Harkness, the man who couldn't die, had come to the House of the Dead to throw himself into the Rift with the desperate hope of exploding into the void. And then Ianto had lied to him, had offered to leave with him…only to stay back with the bomb and do it himself. Because he knew his place, he knew his duty…and because he couldn't let that happen to Jack, wandering immortal in the darkness of time and space, formless, shapeless, lifeless but neither dead nor alive.

Yet Tosh was right: Jack had once been a Time Agent. Of all of them, he might know what to do with Ianto's unique situation…only it would likely mean revealing bits of the future in order to understand, to know how to fix it.

That was what Retcon was for, wasn't it?

Suddenly Jack's voice rang out above them. "Tosh? I just picked up some Weevil sightings downtown, so we're heading out for a while. Save some pizza for us." Ianto was pretty sure his past self was there, as he vaguely remembered Weevil hunting with Jack about this time…Weevil hunting and then a late dinner, and an even later night at his flat…

Yet if he stopped Jack from going Weevil hunting with his past self, what would happen to that memory? Would he keep it or lose it? How much would that one simple night change his past? It was one night among many that they had spent together, after all. It seemed minor, so he tugged on Tosh and motioned up toward the Hub to get Jack's attention. She stood and called out to him.

"Uh, Jack? Would you mind staying a moment? I've got something I need to talk to you about." She sounded a bit nervous; Ianto felt ridiculous hiding under the table.

"What is it?" he asked, and Ianto could picture Jack leaning over the railing. He guessed his past self was probably right next to him, because Tosh cleared her throat uncomfortably.

"For your eyes only, Jack." She paused. "Sorry, Ianto. It's important."

There was a moment of silence, then, "You go on ahead. I'll meet you at the SUV." Ianto could imagine his past self shrugging as he left and once again felt that strange tingly feeling down his spine, like he was being watched by unseen eyes. He heard Jack's footsteps on the stairs to the autopsy bay and steeled himself for what would likely be a very surreal and possibly dangerous meeting.

"What is it, Tosh? Are you hiding an alien under the table?" Ianto could imagine Jack's cheeky grin and tried not to huff indignantly. He waited until Tosh explained.

"Actually, I just picked up a major Rift spike, here in the Hub. In the autopsy bay," she said. He could almost picture Jack nodding, arms crossed across his chest.

"And did you find anything?" he asked, sounding more serious.

Ianto stood up from behind the table, dusting some dirt from his suit. He met Jack's eyes—younger, happier eyes. "Me."

"Ianto?" Jack asked, frowning in confusion.

"Hello, Jack," said Ianto, holding his gaze and waiting for Jack to begin to piece it together.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking just as guarded as Tosh had. His hand had even moved to rest lightly on his gun. "I just sent you out to the SUV to wait for me."

"I know," said Ianto. A fading memory crossed paths with a clearer one. "And you never came. This is why."

"Tosh?" asked Jack, his voice rising in that way he had when he didn't know something and wanted the answer immediately.

"He says he's from another time, Jack," Tosh said. "Which means we need to get him back, only he said it's complicated."

Jack was staring at Ianto as if he didn't trust what he saw, and somehow that tore a small hole in Ianto's heart. "It's really me, Jack. I'm sorry, but I need your help. You know I can't be here."

"How do I know it's really you?" Jack countered.

"Jack," Tosh said, a surprised reprimand in her voice. "Look at him."

"He looks different," Jack replied, still studying him closely. Ianto nodded wearily.

"Time changes people," he said softly. "You should know that, Jack."

"How much time?" Jack demanded. Ianto hesitated, and Jack stepped forward. "When are you from?"

"Just over a year from now, I think." Ianto was starting to feel weak standing there being grilled; he suspected it had to do with both being dead and falling through the Rift. It was a lot for anyone to handle in one day, after all. He put his hands in his pockets to reach for the comfortable familiarity of his stopwatch, but it was not there. Of course it wasn't: he'd come back from the dead, why would he have his watch on him? Who knew what had happened to it when he had died at Thames House. Almost ready to collapse, Ianto staggered to the steps and sat down heavily, letting his head fall into his hands.

"This shouldn't be happening," he murmured. Jack gave him a funny look, then tapped his earpiece.

"Ianto?" he called, and Ianto's past self must have answered, because Jack's eyes widened slightly as he stared at Ianto-on-the-stairs.

"We've had a Rift spike in the Hub. I need to stay and check it out with Tosh…no, you go on, we'll be fine. It could be what brought the Weevils out. Maybe give Owen a call and see if he can't back you up…yes, I know he doesn't…then be careful. I'll call later. Thanks. You too."

Clicking it off, he walked slowly toward Ianto with that look on his face Ianto had always associated with something bad happening to the person Jack was giving it to. Ianto rose to face him, feeling drained and slightly dizzy, but he stood his ground and gazed into Jack's clear blue eyes, hoping Jack would see, would know, would _feel _the truth of what Ianto was saying—the truth of who he was.

He thought about reaching out to Jack somehow, but before he could, Jack had taken his face and was kissing him, _really_ kissing him, and though Ianto knew it was a test, he also knew he would pass. He returned Jack's kiss with all the passion and love he'd come to feel for this man over the years, pouring his heart and soul into that one single moment, that one chance he had to convince Jack that he was real, that he was Ianto Jones.

It did not last long: Jack stepped back with a gasp, as if he'd been shocked, his hands falling limply to his side as he gazed in wonder at Ianto. "It is you," he whispered. "But it's so different. What happened to you?"

"You know I can't tell you," Ianto replied wearily. "Jack, I hate even having this much contact, but I don't know what to do."

Jack still seemed astounded, his hand coming to his mouth as if wanting to remember what they had just shared. "I can imagine. Time travel is like that. Tosh, can you look at what happened here—analyze the spike, see if you can tell where and when it came from. If we can recreate it, we can send him back. And turn off the Hub monitoring system, we can't have everyone seeing this."

Tosh nodded and turned to head toward her computer. Ianto let his head fall to his chest: it was the best, most logical solution, sending him right back to when he'd come from, and also the worst. And yet, how could he tell Jack that without revealing too much of the future?

"You don't want to go back, do you?" Jack asked softly, tilting his chin up.

"It's not that," Ianto replied, shaking his head. "I have to, I know that. I can't stay, obviously. It's just…" He didn't know what to say, and Jack nodded in understanding.

"It's complicated?" he asked.

"You have no idea," Ianto murmured, closing his eyes. He opened them with a small smile. "I'm sorry, Jack," he said.

"What for?" asked Jack, taking his hand and leading him up out of the bay. "I've got two of you now. I could call the other you back and we could—"

"Don't even go there," Ianto replied, giving Jack a pained expression when inside he wanted to laugh with joy. The Jack he had left had been so broken by grief he had almost forgotten the old Jack, the carefree, flirtatious Jack he had been attracted to at first, and then slowly but surely come to love so fiercely.

"You're right," Jack said with that grin—oh, that grin. "I wouldn't want to share you with you."

"That's disgusting."

"Do you two mind?" Tosh called from her computer. "I can hear you, and I'd really rather not hear _that_."

Jack laughed, and Ianto couldn't help but join him, because it felt so good to be with this Jack, not the Jack from the pub, or the Jack who had fought the 456 with such guilt-ridden determination—the Jack who had begged him not to leave him and then desperately brought him back. It would be hard to leave this Jack…but Ianto knew he would. He had no choice.

* * *

Author's Notes:

What can I say? The opening image of Ianto tumbling into the Hub from the future grabbed me and wouldn't let go. This was not the story I had planned to write as my second Torchwood piece (although I've more than started that one as well), but writing is funny that way sometimes. I'm terrified to post it because time travel is so, so difficult (just figuring out the show's timeline is hard enough!) but I figure if I mess something up, I can always go back and change it without having to worry about universe-ending paradoxes.

I do hope this turns out to be at least somewhat original. I've read a few time travel stories for this crew, but not like this. Or maybe it's been done better a hundred times already, in which case I'll just humbly duck my head and carry on anyway, because again: I haven't read it, and it wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. It's complicated, but fun.

Please enjoy. Hopefully it will be a good ride!


	2. Complicated

II. Complicated

Ianto stopped halfway through the doorway to Jack's office as images from the past came flooding back; for him, this office was gone, completely destroyed by the bomb that had once ripped Jack apart. Ianto's breath caught in his chest as he thought about all the memories Jack had there, memories that would soon be lost. He didn't deserve that. If Jack was cursed to live forever, even through a bomb sewed into his stomach, he should at least be given the chance to somehow preserve his past.

Jack noticed him standing in the doorway and pulled him in closer. He ran a hand along Ianto's jaw, cupping his chin and gazing into his eyes before claiming his mouth for another kiss. It was all Ianto could do to stop himself from pulling down Jack's suspenders, unbuttoning his shirt and having him right there, but then a ridiculous thought occurred to him, and he stepped back with a nervous laugh.

"Jack, you're cheating on me," Ianto said, trying to hide his grin at the absurdity of it.

"With you," Jack pointed out. "So technically it's not really cheating."

Ianto shook his head as he moved away. "Of course you'd see it that way." He walked around the office, stopping as he came to Jack's desk and was reminded of all the mementos kept hidden there.

"Jack," Ianto said suddenly, whirling to face him. "You should—"

Jack held up a hand. "No. You can't tell me. You know that."

"No, Jack—please. You just need to—"

"Stop!" he exclaimed. "I can't know anything. Nothing. It could change everything."

Ianto rubbed at his face and began pacing again. "Then how are you going to help me? If I can't tell you anything?"

Jack frowned and took a deep breath through his nose. "Tell me as little as possible. Not my future, just yours. And start with how you got here."

Ianto collapsed into a nearby chair. "That'll give up the ghost then," he said, then laughed bitterly at the irony of his statement. "Literally."

He saw Jack's face blanch somewhat. Then he nodded and walked over to the table where he kept some scotch and brought out two glasses. Unfortunately, the decanter was empty.

"There's a new one in the cabinet," Ianto murmured, the memory of purchasing it long ago surfacing unexpectedly. Jack gave him a grateful smile, found the bottle, and poured them each a small drink. He sat down across from Ianto, and they were silent for a moment as they each considered the situation.

"How did you come through the Rift?" Jack finally asked. "Were you pushed, did you trip, fall?"

Ianto swirled his glass, staring into the amber liquid as he thought about how to reply. He decided he had to tell the truth, if he had any hope of getting back. "I wasn't pushed, no, and I didn't fall. I walked into the Rift on my own…in order to close it."

Jack's eyes widened slightly, the barest hint of reaction. "I see. How heroic."

"Not really," Ianto murmured. He'd been terrified, his only thought to save Jack from a fate worse than death.

"So, you don't want to go back because you think you're supposed to be dead." Jack nodded to himself. "But you obviously survived, so I don't see how going back would actually change the—"

Ianto set his drink down on the table between them and stopped him. "No, no it's more than that." He stood and walked away, glanced out the windows down at the Hub, at Tosh working peacefully at her station. How easy it would be to tell Jack everything, so they would all survive, so that none of it would happen the way it was supposed to—the way it already had.

And there was the paradox, that if he changed the future he would no longer travel back to the past, leaving the future unchanged after all... Ianto's head hurt just thinking about it. Yet he had to tell Jack something, because Ianto was fairly sure his case was somewhat unique in the history of time travel. He turned to Jack and took a deep breath.

"I can't go back because I was already dead when I went into the Rift. I literally have no life to go back to. I'm _supposed_ to be dead." He turned away and tried to keep his voice steady. "Twice now, when I think about it."

He heard Jack come up behind him, felt strong hands on his shoulders, struggling to release the knots of tension there.

"Tell me what happened," Jack said softly.

"I can't," Ianto whispered. "You know I can't."

"Tell me something, at least. Because I don't understand—if you were already dead, how were you able to walk into the Rift to destroy it?"

Ianto turned toward him and met his gaze, tears in his eyes that he couldn't stop. "Someone brought me back."

"I see." Jack stepped away, hands falling limply to his sides. He knew.

"Jack, what am I supposed to do?" Ianto asked, moving away again even though he wanted more than anything for Jack—this Jack, any Jack—to put his arms around him and hold him. When he had got far enough away he turned around. "I died. I came back. I thought I'd die again, only now I'm trapped in my own past, knowing my own future."

Jack folded his arms across his chest in that way he had and just stared at Ianto from across the room. "Complicated."

"I told you it was," Ianto laughed bitterly. "I suppose I could just go back to the moment I left, but I don't know if I'd actually _be_ alive. I don't know what happened afterward. I could just be a ghost, and I'd rather not do the haunting thing."

Jack was silent, as if thinking carefully, so Ianto kept going, voicing all the fears he'd had since the moment he'd arrived and started thinking of a way back.

"We can't predict where I'd end up anyway, can we? Or when. I could end up on the other side of the galaxy, five hundred years in the future."

"It's not so bad," Jack replied with a half grin. "I would find you."

"Shit." The realization that Jack would actually be around in five hundred years to follow through was staggering; Ianto was once more overwhelmed by the impossibility of his predicament and sank back into his chair, picking up his drink and finishing it in one long pull.

"Tosh has been working on Rift calculations," Jack replied. "To send things back that fall through. We just keep her on it until she figures it out, gets you back to your time—"

"We can't predict the consequences, though," Ianto pointed out miserably. "Look what happened with Bilis Manger."

Jack simply inclined his head in response; it had been a difficult time for them all.

"What else is there then?" Ianto could think of several other options, none of which seemed any good. "Do you think Martha Jones could help?"

"UNIT doesn't do time travel as far as I know," Jack said.

"I don't suppose your vortex manipulator is working again and you never told me?"

Jack frowned. "How did you know it could—" he started, and Ianto glanced upward with a small smile.

"The future, Jack. Just like I know the Doctor disabled it when you came back to us." He almost added _again,_ but stopped before the words left his mouth. Even such a simple slip could harm the future, and he'd already said too much. Yet it gave him an idea. "What about the Doctor? Could he take me back?"

"I've no way of contacting him," Jack said, and he sounded regretfully sad, like he often did when he spoke of the Doctor. Ianto knew Martha had a very special phone that could probably do the job, but he wasn't sure if Jack did, and the Earth wouldn't be stolen and attacked by the Daleks for months. And somehow, Ianto didn't think Jack's Doctor would travel all that way just to help him: Ianto was nobody, one man trapped in a time where he didn't belong, who should be dead in the time where he did.

"And I still don't know what I'd be returning to."

"Life or death or something in between. Right." Jack sat down across from him. "We can hide you, set you up with a new identity so you'd be safe. Create a new life for you. We've done it before, although never with a time traveler from the future."

Ianto glanced up and met Jack's eyes, saw the sadness there as Jack thought about the daughter and grandson he'd kept secret from them all. Jack must have sensed from the look on Ianto's face that Ianto knew about Alice and Steven.

Jack grinned to cover his surprise and the awkwardness inherent in the secret he'd kept hidden for so long. "Apparently you've sussed out a lot of my secrets in the future." He paused. "We must be close."

Ianto nodded. "We are." _We were,_ he thought to himself, and again Jack must have read his face like an open book. Damn, he was bad at this. He would never be able to keep it secret, all the things he knew would happen, both the good and the bad. And he could never give up life at Torchwood, not now that he knew what was out there.

"Jack, I don't think I could pretend to be someone else knowing what I know, but knowing I can't change anything, that I just have to let it happen."

Jack took a sip of his drink. "I know the feeling, Ianto. I've been through it many times." He paused again. "There is always Retcon."

"Retcon is short term, Jack." Ianto shook his head skeptically. "You'd have to erase years off my life, not days."

"We could do it."

"I don't think it would work," Ianto replied. "I've seen too much to forget it all, it would bleed through. And there are some things I don't want to forget." He left unsaid the silent _you_ as it was probably obvious by now that he and Jack had become much closer in the future, more than just casual lovers. _I love you,_ Ianto had told him, just before he had died at Thames House. Six months later, Jack had finally said the same. _I love you, Ianto Jones._

They were silent for a long time, though another possibility was slowly beginning to form in Ianto's mind. He finally voiced it, hoping—praying—that Jack would disagree and talk him out of it…

"I may need to die."

Jack glanced up sharply. "No. No way. Absolutely out of the question."

"Jack, I'm _supposed_ to be dead."

"Maybe in the future, but not here. I'm not letting you die now, knowing you'll die later." Jack had that fierce, determined look on his face that Ianto knew would brook no argument, and really, he had none. He wanted to live, now that he had a second chance.

Jack studied him before talking. "What about cryogenic preservation? We could freeze you until after the date you fell into the Rift. Then you could wake up and carry on in that life from that point in time."

Ianto considered it. It was a good idea: it had worked for Jack, after all, when John Hart had buried him, and Torchwood had frozen him for over a hundred years. But Ianto knew it wouldn't work for him. He stood and began to pace again, trying to figure out how much to tell Jack. He spied the small box of Retcon on Jack's desk and wondered if he should nick some, just in case he needed it later.

Turning, he leaned against the desk before answering. "I would consider it. And it would work, in theory, only I know that I wouldn't come out of it. I'd be dead anyway."

"Why?" Jack demanded.

"I can't tell you," Ianto murmured, and again he felt his eyes well up as he thought about those final moments with Jack in the Hub, their last kiss before Jack had put him on the lift and send him out, only to be destroyed with the massive explosion that had taken out all of Torchwood.

Everything had been lost, except Jack. Jack always came back. It was his blessing and his curse.

Jack swore under his breath. "The Rift is the best answer, then. We have to take the chance."

"Jack, I don't want to cause another crack, not after what happened last time—" Ianto started.

"We can do it better this time," Jack said, standing and coming to a stop in front of him. "We learned a lot after Owen opened it. We would be opening a small portal to a specific place and time. Tosh can do it."

"And if I do end up on the other side of the galaxy five hundred years from now?" Ianto whispered. In spite of all he had seen, he truly couldn't imagine life off planet, alone in some alien culture in the distant future. It was a mind-numbing thought.

Jack kissed his forehead, quick and gentle. "Then I will find you. I promise."

Ianto nodded wordlessly. He believed Jack, but it was still a big risk. He wondered again whether he was supposed to be dead, but pushed the thought from his mind. He was alive now. He had to try. For Jack.

"I'm going to check with Tosh. Stay here, just so no one else pops in and sees you. Like yourself." Jack grinned. "Although I'm still tempted to—"

"Stop it." Ianto forced a laugh. "Go on, I'll stay here."

Jack stopped at the door before leaving. "It'll be all right, Ianto. We'll figure it out."

"I know, Jack."

He didn't, not really, but he smiled and motioned Jack out anyway. Jack shut the door behind him, leaving Ianto in the office where they had shared so much together, in a place he knew would one day be destroyed.

He had to do something.

Quickly pocketing several Retcon pills, Ianto found Jack's stun gun and stowed it in his jacket pocket, grabbed Jack's calendar from the top drawer, and sat down to write. He would not change the future; he just wanted to save some of the past.

* * *

Author's Note:

The chapter title says it all, so I hope that made some sense. Thank you so much for reading this, I was astounded at the response to chapter one and sincerely hope I can live up to so many expectations! I really appreciate all the reviews and hope you enjoy the story. It's ten chapters and mostly done and so far the universe has not imploded. :)


	3. Suspicion

III. Suspicion

Ianto Jones knew something was going on.

He felt it. He couldn't describe what it was exactly, but something was different—about Jack, about Tosh. They seemed to be hiding something, and for some reason Ianto had a strong suspicion that it involved him. He didn't know why he felt that way, exactly—he had just had such a peculiar sensation, standing at the railing next to Jack, gazing into the autopsy bay, that he couldn't ignore it, especially after Jack had sent him off on his own but wouldn't really tell him why.

He and Jack were supposed to have gone after some Weevils in Bute Park, but Jack had called on the com and said he had to stay at the Hub. It wasn't that they never went out on their own after the occasional rogue Weevil, or with the others on the team if there were larger numbers to deal with, but there had been something odd in Jack's voice, something that felt off about the sudden change in plans. What was going on at the Hub that Tosh couldn't say anything in front of him, that Jack had to stay back and wouldn't tell him more on the phone?

Jack had suggested that Ianto give Owen a call, but it was late at night and even though Ianto knew perfectly well Owen wasn't sleeping (or drinking or shagging, for that matter), he did not want to call him now, not when he had almost been looking forward to going out with Jack. They usually ended up at Ianto's flat to clean up after Weevil hunting, and Ianto enjoyed those nights far more than their quick trysts in the Hub. It always felt more real, whatever it was that they had, when they were away from work, and it had been a while since they had either gone out or just gone back to his place.

Feeling slightly reckless in his disappointment, Ianto pulled into the dark park, grabbed his gear, and headed out with a torch. His mind was distracted, though, as he tried to puzzle out how a Rift spike could happen right in the Hub, and why Jack had been so closed about it on the phone. He did not hear the first Weevil as he walked across the empty grounds. It attacked him from behind, wrapping its arms around him before he managed to stun it in the leg, dropping it to the ground; a second shot to the forehead took it out completely.

He managed a second and a third Weevil with no problems after making sure to stay more focused and alert. The fourth one caught him by surprise again, charging straight at him from behind a large tree and bowling him over before he could hit it, and Ianto saw stars as the back of his head struck the ground hard.

He barely managed to keep it off his jugular. The stun gun flew from his hands as he struggled, and he desperately twisted around for his automatic. He managed to get off a poor shot, and the Weevil flew off him with a guttural yell. Two more shots put it down before it could charge him again, and Ianto stood up and leaned over, gasping hard. He gingerly felt the back of his head; his hand came away covered with blood. Swearing under his breath, Ianto blamed Jack for sending him out alone only to see him end up with a head wound and a dirty suit. It was not how he wanted to spend his night.

A quick turn of the park failed to turn up any other Weevils; perhaps the noise had scared them away. Fortunately there was a large sewer drain nearby. Rather than transporting them all back to the Hub on his own—four Weevils was a lot for one man to handle alone—Ianto dragged each beast over to the drain and lobbed them in, returning them to where they belonged; they would take care of the dead themselves. Then he climbed back into the SUV and set off for his flat. He needed to change and clean up before returning to work. Or maybe he would stay home and get some sleep. He didn't need to work every night, especially if there was something going on he wasn't supposed to know about.

As he drove, he thought more about Jack and Tosh's odd behavior and what was going on at the Hub. He tried to put it from his mind, but couldn't: some nagging voice in the back of his mind told him it was important. Something had happened in the autopsy bay, something both Tosh and Jack were keeping from him, something that was more than just a Rift spike. He decided he would clean up and head back to the Hub to try and find some answers. He was good at discreetly looking into things, after all, and if it had something to do with him, maybe he could help.

Just as he parked the car and headed inside, his mobile rang.

"Ianto, where are you?" asked Jack. No greeting, no check-up, just the clipped question; something was definitely going on.

"I'm at my flat, actually," Ianto said, frowning as he searched for his keys. "I need to clean up a bit."

There was silence on the other end of the line. "Are you all right?" Ianto thought that Jack sounded concerned, but he couldn't be sure if the other man was simply distracted and forcing it.

"Nothing a shower and a stiff drink won't fix, sir," replied Ianto, trying to sound light. He didn't like worrying Jack, because he sometimes tended to overreact when one of the team took a hit, and really, Ianto's head didn't hurt that much. He would ask Owen to look at it in the morning just to be sure it wasn't anything serious.

"Right. Good. Were you planning on coming back tonight?'

He was, but he didn't want Jack to know that; sometimes it was important to make Jack work for something. "Not really. Why, do you need me to come back?"

Jack chuckled on the other end of the line. "I always want you to come back, Ianto. But I could really use your help. Tosh is working on a project, but she needs to get some sleep before she collapses. You know how busy she's been around here lately. Someone needs to keep an eye on the Rift while I take care of some other things."

"What things?" Ianto asked automatically, turning the key in the lock and flicking on the lights as he entered the flat. He wished Jack were there with him instead of on the phone. He hated the feeling that Jack was hiding something, because it was almost painfully obvious from his evasive answers that he was.

"I can't really say," Jack said, sounding reluctant. "I just need to head out for a few hours, and with the activity we had earlier, I want someone to keep an eye on the Rift."

"Did anything come through?" asked Ianto, taking off his jacket and frowning at the dirt and mud from the park. He really should change when he went Weevil hunting; it was the third suit he'd dirtied in the last four months from chasing after the damn creatures.

Jack didn't answer right away, which meant that something had probably come through the Rift, but that Jack didn't want to tell him. Why not? Ianto's instincts were telling him that the odd feeling he'd felt gazing down into the autopsy bay had something to do with it—with the Rift and whatever they were hiding. From him. Why him?

"Not really, but we need to watch it," Jack finally answered. Ianto nodded to himself, knowing Jack would tell him nothing, but pushing anyway.

"Why not just set the alarms then?"

Again Jack hesitated for just the barest of moments, reconfirming Ianto's suspicion: something was definitely off. "Tosh needs some sleep in order to get this done right," he repeated. "It's important, and I want someone awake if there's another spike."

"What's Tosh working on?" Ianto asked as he slipped off his tie. He could probably wring more answers—or clues, at least—from Jack in person, but Jack wouldn't be at the Hub later if he had something else to take care of. Maybe Ianto could get something out of Tosh when she woke up.

"Just some calculations she thinks will held predict these spikes, especially here in the Hub. So can you sit around and read or something while she takes a break?"

"Yes, Jack. I'll come back," Ianto replied, both reluctant to return and wanting to figure out what was going on. "Just give me a few minutes to clean up and I'll be there to babysit for you."

"Thanks, Ianto. See you soon."

Ianto sighed wearily to himself as he headed toward the bathroom. Though he knew perfectly well Torchwood and everyone in it had their secrets, something about this one niggled at him. Something was different, and he didn't like being in the dark when it came to what was going on at the Hub.

Especially when the quiet voice inside him was growing more and more insistent that it somehow, in some way, had something to do with him.

* * *

Author's Note:

Yes folks, that was past Ianto. Or present Ianto, if you prefer. I think of him as past Ianto myself, because he is from the future Ianto's past. Confused yet? Me too. He will continue to hang around so start taking notes if you need to keep things straight. I know this was short, but with the change in viewpoint, it needed to be its own chapter or things would get more confusing than they already are. Next chapter later this week and back to future Ianto. Excuse me while I start biting my fingernails at the response…


	4. Understanding

IV. Understanding

Ianto had written what he'd needed and placed the calendar back into the desk. Jack would see the note at some point and probably ask Ianto's past self about it, but even though his past self wouldn't remember writing it, it didn't matter. It would have been said and seen, and hopefully Jack would follow through. Ianto could see no harm in backing up some of the important Hub data off site, including personal mementos; it was actually very much like him to suggest it. Ianto was surprised he hadn't...or maybe he hadn't because his future self had left Jack the note, Jack had actually done it, and there'd been no reason to mention it.

Once again, the confusing jumble of action and reaction involved with the complexities of time travel made his head spin.

With a sigh, Ianto went back to his chair to wait. He loosened his tie and poured himself a second scotch. Lying back in the chair, legs stretched in front of him with his drink in hand, Ianto closed his eyes as he thought his predicament yet again. His free hand went to his pocket, missing the stopwatch he'd always kept there. It helped him think, stay focused, and he needed that now. Something was bothering him—something more than the fact that he was lost in his own past. Something about the Rift, about the consequences of opening it…it had been disastrous when Owen had done it, but Jack said Tosh could do better now. Ianto wasn't sure it would work, but he couldn't put his finger on what bothered him, exactly.

He was interrupted in his thoughts when Jack finally came back in.

"Now that is one hell of a look for you," Jack murmured. "Are you sure you don't want to—"

Ianto sat up slowly, wearily. "As I don't remember ever having a threesome with you and my future self, I don't think so."

"We can make some new memories," Jack replied with that cheeky wag of his eyebrows.

"Timestream," Ianto murmured. He set down his drink and stood. "What did Tosh say?"

"She's working on the equations, just like she did when we were trapped back in 1941, but she said it's going to take a while longer. And we need an exact time and place." Ianto nodded, still unsure of what to say; if he told them, they would have critical knowledge of the future, not to mention he still wasn't sure returning to that time and place was the right thing to do. His uncertainty must have played out on his face, because Jack nodded.

"You're worried telling us will affect the future," he said.

"I know it will, Jack," Ianto replied. "I've seen it."

"We can't open the Rift without knowing," Jack said. "And we need to be as specific as possible."

"Are you going to Retcon yourselves, then?" Ianto asked. "Because it will change everything. It already has, just my being here, interacting with you."

Jack blew out a long breath before he answered. "You're probably right, as much as I hate to admit it."

"So you'll do it?" Ianto asked again, recognizing the reluctant tone to Jack's voice.

"As soon as you leave," Jack replied, but for some reason Ianto did not believe him. Jack knew time travel, and he knew the rules, but Jack would also break the rules if he needed to—especially for one of his team. Ianto would have to make sure Jack did not break this rule; he was glad he had pocketed what he would need.

"March, 2010, then," Ianto told him reluctantly. "End of the month to be safe. I was at a pub in Cardiff."

As soon as he told Jack the name of the pub, he could see that Jack knew. The House of the Dead. Most everyone knew of it, and Jack had been in Cardiff for years working for Torchwood so of course he would know it too. Ianto wondered if Jack would start to figure things out, because that would affect the future more than anything—as well as both of their actions for the rest of the night.

"I see," Jack murmured, eyes refusing to meet Ianto's face.

"Do you?" Ianto asked.

"I think I do," Jack said, and Ianto saw the sadness in Jack's eyes that told him Jack indeed had started to understand—really understand. "You did say it was complicated, after all."

"Then you know why you have to take the Retcon. You can't be tempted to change anything."

"Maybe I'm supposed to," he said, an earnestness to his voice Ianto had desperately missed after meeting the other Jack, _his_ Jack, at the House of the Dead. "Maybe that's why you're here."

"Jack, you know that's not how it works!" Ianto exclaimed. "I didn't come back to change the past. I wasn't even alive when I came back, it was an accident. I died six—" He stopped himself before he said too much. "I was just a ghost. I came through the Rift and now I'm alive, but I'm not here to change what's happened to me, otherwise it will never happen for me to even come back and change." He shook his head in confusion. "You know that, probably better than I do!"

"I also know that time works in funny ways," Jack said, crossing his hands over his chest like he did whenever he was arguing stubbornly with someone. "Time is fluid, always changing—rippling back and forth across eternity like water. It's not set in stone."

"This is," said Ianto. "You can't change anything. Promise me you won't, Jack. Promise me you'll take the Retcon when this is all over so you're not tempted."

They stared at one another for a long moment, a battle of wills between two different times, until Jack finally gave in, nodding curtly. "I will."

Ianto closed his eyes. "Thank you. Tosh too, once you let her know the coordinates."

"I'll tell her next time I check in with her," Jack replied, then gave a soft laugh through his nose. "At least this time she won't have to write out the equations in blood, and Owen won't have to open the Rift without a clue."

"And I won't have to shoot him," Ianto added dryly without thinking.

"I still can't believe you did that," Jack said with a grin. "I wish I could have seen it."

Ianto shrugged. "It's not like I actually stopped him. I'm not sure if I really wanted to."

Jack looked surprised at that; Ianto hadn't shared that particular confession at this point in their relationship. _Bollocks, I've done it again._ He just needed to keep his mouth shut—about the future and the past.

"I'm glad you didn't want to see me stuck in 1941," Jack said softly, coming up to him and wrapping his arms around Ianto. Ianto stiffened before he relaxed, feeling again that it was wrong of him, to be with _this _Jack while his past self was out hunting Weevils. And yet, it was still _them_…he was still Ianto, still with Jack, in both times.

"I didn't want to be stuck with Owen as team leader," Ianto tossed back, which was partially true. And he had really feared what might happen with a relatively uncontrolled Rift opening, especially after tracing all the phone tips to Bilis Manger. His instinct had screamed at him that it was wrong, that it was a set-up…but his heart couldn't leave both Jack and Tosh trapped in the past.

"Owen," Jack murmured, and Ianto knew immediately what he was thinking just from the tone of his voice.

"I can't tell you anything, Jack," he said, stepping out of Jack's embrace. "I've already told you too much. I don't know what to do until I can get back. I'll keep talking and mess up the future even more."

Jack grinned. "Security is off. We could do whatever you want."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "As much as I'd like to, I really shouldn't betray myself with you." He paused and thought about what he had just said. "That is so warped and confusing."

"Exhilarating, though," Jack said, sounding wistful. Ianto gave him a curious look.

"Do you miss it?" he asked quietly. "Time travel?"

"No," said Jack, sitting down behind his desk while Ianto moved back to his chair and his drink. "I don't, not really. Too many regrets—things you see but can't stop, things you know but can't change."

"Tell me about it," murmured Ianto, fighting back a yawn. He was tired. He had no idea how long he had been awake. His memory was fuzzy of the time before he'd gone to the House of the Dead, or how long he'd been there; it might have been hours, if not days. He felt his eyes drift shut; perhaps it was just the effects of the Rift, of crossing his own timestream. He idly wondered how his past self was feeling; he didn't remember noticing any ill effects, though he did remember feeling suspicious about something, but maybe now that he was here, his past self would start feeling odd as well, and then he would start remembering things differently, if only he could keep his mind straight…

"I wish I could just go home," he murmured drowsily, unable to stop the thoughts flowing freely through his tired mind. It seemed so long ago, the last time he had been at his flat before the world had gone to hell and he'd been forced on the run, to London. He suddenly wanted to go back, perhaps see his sister one last time as well. More than anything he wanted to know what had happened after Thames House—to Jack and Gwen and Rhiannon and the kids, but he was in the past, not the future, and his past had to be preserved.

"Get some rest," Jack said, smiling gently at him. "I'll let you know when Tosh has those equations ready."

Ianto just nodded and let his eyes close again. It would work itself out. If it didn't, he would just have to do whatever it took to set things right.

* * *

He was woken by a gentle hand shaking his shoulder.

"Come on," said Jack. "Let's go."

Ianto sat up, trying to remember where he was and what he was doing there…why had he fallen asleep in Jack's office chair? Then he remembered…it wasn't about where he was, but _when_ he was. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and glanced at a nearby clock; it was the middle of the night. In his past.

"Where are we going?" he asked. "I can't go anywhere. Someone might see me."

"Look, Tosh just fell asleep at her computer, so I told her to go lay down for a few hours."

"Then what did you wake me for?" Ianto couldn't help but grumble as he ran a hand across his face and through his hair. He had been dreaming about something, something from the past…

Jack frowned. "You were talking in your sleep. About the future."

"Then why didn't you just leave?" Ianto asked. "You shouldn't have been listening. And I'm exhausted, I should keep sleeping if you're not going to send me back right away."

"I know," Jack said softly. "But you need a proper bed. You can't get any decent sleep sitting up like that."

"I can't sleep in your bed," Ianto said, a sudden flush of alarm rushing to his head. "What if I came back and found myself?"

Jack laughed. "I think it'd be brilliant, but that's just me. No, don't worry, I've worked it out."

They headed into the silent Hub. Tosh had laid down on the couch with a blanket, and Ianto was struck again by how much he missed her—her kindness, her brilliance, her peaceful beauty and strength. He stared at her for probably too long, as Jack was watching him with an unsaid question on his lips. Ianto shook his head silently and followed Jack toward the lift that lead up to the Plass.

"What did you work out?" he asked. "And where are we going?"

"We are going back to your flat," said Jack. "I called you—past you—and asked him to come keep an eye on things while Tosh slept. So he'll be here, and we can go back to your flat. You can rest there for a few hours." He paused. "And I have a feeling, from some of the things you said, that it might be good to see it again."

Ianto felt the blood drain from his face. "Jack, what did I say?" he demanded. "Because you know we can't change the future."

Jack put his hands on Ianto's shoulders. "I know that. Stop repeating yourself. You weren't specific. I just got the impression that whatever happened in the future was sudden and traumatic. Maybe going back will help you put that to rest."

"And if my past self decides to come home early?" Ianto asked. Though he knew it was a bad idea, he did want to go to his flat one last time. From the moment the first child had stopped under the influence of the 456, he had been with Torchwood, working on the case. And then the Hub had been destroyed, and he'd been forced to flee, hiding from snipers, borrowing his sister's laptop and car, stealing credit cards to survive and fight back. Staying in the old warehouse in London, never knowing if he'd see Cardiff again…

"He won't," Jack promised.

"What if he figures out what's going on at the Hub?" Ianto asked, knowing himself and knowing he would try.

"Tosh locked down her station, and I've deleted all the CCTV footage of you here. Even if he suspects something, he won't find a thing." Jack took his hand and squeezed. "Something happened to you, I can tell. Maybe this will make it better while we wait. You go up this way, I'll meet you outside with the SUV as soon as he gets here."

Ianto just nodded as he stepped onto the lift. "Don't be late, Jack. We don't have much time." The lift started to rise, and Ianto had to choke back panic as he remembered the last time he had ridden the lift to the surface, staring at Jack before the Hub exploded around him. Gwen had just found out she was pregnant, and then the world had been blown to hell.

Stepping out onto the Plass, Ianto glanced around the dark deserted area. He saw a figure walking toward the tourist entrance and somehow knew it was his past self. Even seeing himself from the distance was eerie: he felt that strange tingly feeling again, and his past self paused to look around. Ianto ducked away, hoping he wasn't seen. Yet he was starting to remember more things about this night now: how he had come back to the Hub when Jack had called him, only Jack had turned around left him, alone and confused. Ianto had wondered about Jack's strange behavior; it was strange now to know that _he _had been the cause of it.

Walking to the edge of the Plass, Ianto gazed across the Bay and then back at the water tower that ran through the Hub. It was calm and peaceful, not a gaping hole in the ground, filled with smoke and fire. There were no rescue workers or black ops operatives crawling over the wreckage, collecting Jack's body. That would not happen for a long time.

Not for the first time, Ianto wondered what changing the future would really do to the timestream. He wondered why so many people had to suffer if he could somehow stop it. He wondered if his death in particular would make any difference in the complicated tapestry of the universe. He didn't even know if Jack had managed to stop the 456. Maybe if Ianto survived, he could help. He was one of dozens who had died at Thames House, after all. Would his death really make a difference, or would his life mean more?

Shaking his head of such thoughts, Ianto turned when he heard footsteps behind him, his heart suddenly racing. But it was only Jack, standing there with a small smile, and he took Ianto's hand as they walked toward the SUV. They did not talk, and it occurred to Ianto that normally Jack had not held his hand this way, not at this point in time. Then again, Ianto was not his past self: Jack knew that they were closer in the future, he had sensed it immediately when they had kissed in the autopsy bay. Apparently Jack was all right with that; perhaps Ianto's coming back had been the impetus for that change.

And with that thought Ianto realized that he _had_ changed his own timestream, however unintentionally, and he told himself once again that he had to be more careful. But as he remembered his last days with Jack and all that had gone unsaid and undone, he knew it would be hard. Because here was Jack, caressing his palm, and there was no place else Ianto wanted to be than with him. Again.

* * *

Author's Note:

Poor Ianto.

Well, I don't have much else to say for once (and I can usually ramble about my stories for pages). I finished some bits that were giving me trouble and I'm excited to keep on updating, how about that? Thank you so much for all the support, I am so thrilled with the response and hope I don't let you down!


	5. Recognition

V. Recognition

Jack had asked Ianto to come back to the Hub so Tosh could get some rest. With the spike in the Rift that had kept Jack from going Weevil hunting, he wanted someone to keep an eye on things while he went out. He hadn't told Ianto where he was going, which was odd considering it was the middle of the night and he had been getting better about not keeping secrets, but he had kissed Ianto before he left, reassuring him that everything was all right, there was just something he needed to take care of for a few hours. It had been strange, though. A different kind of kiss, not to mention Jack didn't usually kiss him on the way out.

Ianto still felt like he was being avoided, though. He had been dismissed to the SUV, sent after the Weevils on his own, and now Jack had left him babysitting the Rift while he went out, refusing to say where he was going or what he was doing. Something was going on.

Tosh probably knew more, but she was asleep, and her computer was completely locked down. She would certainly know if Ianto even attempted to break in—knowing her, she'd most likely set an alarm—and given her superior expertise, he probably wouldn't get far anyway.

He checked the CCTV footage of the Hub, but the cameras had gone down right about the time he had left earlier that night, when Jack had stayed behind. That was odd: a Rift spike and then no security cameras. Ianto frowned at the screen. It was too much of a coincidence, when so many things already felt out of place.

Ianto knew Jack's passwords. Jack didn't know that he knew, but logging in as Jack, Ianto could dig a bit deeper. He felt the slightest bit of guilt, but some nagging instinct told him it was important. He needed to know what was going on because he was almost certain it involved him somehow. What were they hiding, and why?

He pulled up the CCTV recordings of the Hub again, but this time he noticed something, something Jack had done from his login. Several minutes of footage had been deleted. Ianto had once done the same thing, when he had been hiding Lisa in the basement. He knew how it was done and how to find traces of it. Jack probably didn't suspect he'd be able to track down the deleted footage, but he could.

And he did.

What he saw made his blood run cold. There was the flash of the Rift spike, in the autopsy bay. There was a body tumbling out of nowhere. A man wearing a suit...a man with his build, his hair…his face.

Ianto watched the man rise unsteadily in the autopsy bay, his heart racing in his chest. He watched Tosh come to help, then stop as she realized this Ianto was different: he looked slightly older, wearier. And then he watched as Jack appeared, also wary—so much so he laid his hand on his gun.

Ianto remembered the odd feeling he'd had at the railing before he'd left, like when a flash of déjà vu sends goosepimples up and down one's arms. He remembered Jack telling him to go on alone over the comm. This was why: Ianto had been looking down on himself, but hadn't known it, and Jack had stayed behind to deal with it.

He watched as this other man, this other _him, _stood and faced Jack. They kissed, but it didn't last long: Jack stepped back as if shocked with electricity, his hand coming to his mouth. Ianto felt a strange tug in his gut, that Jack was kissing this other man…even though this other man appeared to be him. It was probably his future self, from the looks of things; he could only imagine what was going through Jack's mind, knowing Jack the way he did.

The screen went blank then, the cameras gone out or shut down, and Ianto just sat and stared at the darkness. So that was where Jack was: somewhere with his future self. And that was probably what Tosh was working on, the equations to open the Rift and send the man back, not predict more spikes. But still Ianto had this feeling, that there was something _he_ needed to be doing, something only _he _could do, even though he knew time travel—and meeting one's future or past self—was almost always a recipe for disaster.

"You shouldn't have seen that," said a voice behind him, and he whirled to find Tosh standing there, looking both panicked and furious as she rubbed her eyes.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice anything?" he asked with a heavy sigh. "There's a Rift spike right here in the Hub, but it's for Jack's eyes only? You're both acting odd in the middle of the night, sending me out and calling me back and generally avoiding me. How could I not suspect something?"

"Jack said he deleted that footage," she said. "You shouldn't have been able to find it."

Ianto shrugged. "I have said I know everything around here. I've known his passwords for months."

Tosh stared at him in surprise. "Don't you trust him?"

"Of course I do," Ianto hedged. It wasn't about trust; it was about his instinct. "But Tosh, I knew something was going on because… because I felt it. When he was here," he gestured at the blank screen, "and later, when I got here, I thought I saw someone by the lift…" He shrugged; it was too complicated to explain. Maybe it happened when two versions of the same person came into close proximity with one another; maybe he was completely wrong. Tosh just continued to stare at him silently.

"Look, did you figure out the equations to send him back?" Ianto asked, giving her an apologetic smile. "I gather that's what Jack has you working on?"

She nodded and headed back to her station. "It is. And I think I've figured it out, while I was sleeping." She grinned at him, his momentary lapse forgotten in her excitement over solving a complicated problem. "I love it when that happens."

"So you'll just send the other me back through the Rift to whenever he came from?" he asked, and she nodded as she put on her glasses and unlocked her computer.

"It's complicated, though," she said. "We're opening a portal to the future, for one, which is a lot different than going into the past. And Jack seemed worried about what he was sending you back to, for some reason."

"What do you mean?" Ianto asked. It didn't make sense: his future self should just go back to the time and place he had come from—at least, according to his understanding of time travel.

"I don't know," Tosh admitted. "I don't know if Jack even knows. It's the future, Ianto. We're not _supposed_ to know anything." She gave him a chastising glance from her computer. "Especially you."

Ianto glanced back at the dark screen where he had seen his future self, then walked over to Tosh with his hands in his pockets, idly fingering the stopwatch there as he tried to stay calm and focused. "You know we'll probably be Retconned."

She nodded in agreement, as if she had already suspected it. "Probably. Who knows, maybe we've done this loads of times already, sent people back to the future, and we have no idea we've been doing it."

"What about Jack? He would need to be Retconned, too."

"If he knows anything important," Tosh said. She was busy typing things into her computer. Ianto watched her, trying to make sense of it.

"Of course he does. He's with me at the moment," Ianto said, rolling his eyes. Tosh gave him a funny look. "He's not going to take no for an answer."

She smiled and nudged him with her shoulder. "I think you two are rather close in the future," she said, then turned back to her computer. "And Jack seemed quite happy with that."

Ianto didn't know what to say. What he and Jack had was complicated. Yes, they had hooked up for casual sex months ago, but it wasn't until Jack had returned from his months away with the Doctor that things had really changed. He had actually asked Ianto out, on a real date. It had taken a while, but they had eventually worked their way past the hurt and anger to the point where they had gone out for that dinner and movie, and slowly things had developed into something more from there. But they rarely talked about it, and Ianto knew Jack was reluctant to define whatever it was they had. Jack didn't like labels, for one, and it was painfully obvious he didn't want to get close, for another.

And yet apparently they did, in the future. It suddenly occurred to Ianto that his future self's trip to the past could be the impetus for that change. He wasn't sure how he felt about that: Jack moving closer only because he knew it happened in the future. It was definitely complicated.

"There!" Tosh exclaimed. "I think I've got it. That should deposit you…I mean, him…not too long after he left."

"What about any cracks?" Ianto asked, frowning at the screen. "You know, aftershocks from opening the Rift?"

Tosh pursed her lips as she stared at the screen. "I've tried to create as small an opening as possible, with as precise coordinates and date as I could manage. Hopefully it will minimize any repercussions."

"Coordinates?" Ianto asked, picking up on something in her tone. "You mean, in space and not just time?" When she nodded, he frowned. "So you're not just returning him to the Hub in the future? Didn't he pass through the Rift in the Hub?"

She shook her head. "No, they gave me a set of coordinates, somewhere in Cardiff."

"Can I see?" Ianto asked. Something was tickling at the back of his mind, a strange tingling in his spine. He wondered if it was because his future self was here, in Cardiff, and if he were somehow picking up future memories. He doubted it, but he could not deny what he felt, and it was once again telling him that there was more going on in this whole implausible scenario than they knew.

She pulled it up on a map. "It's a pub. Maybe that's where the crack in the Rift happened that he came through?"

Ianto stared at the screen, his stomach twisting as a dozen different possibilities raced through his mind. "I know that pub. It's the House of the Dead."

* * *

Author's Note:

Still not much to say other than another thank you to everyone who has read this! Feel free to ask questions. If I've left something out, I'm happy to explain! Looking forward to posting the next chapter...


	6. Home

VI. Home

Walking into his flat brought back even more emotions than stepping into Jack's office had back at the Hub. This was his home, a space he had one hoped to share with Lisa, only to end up sharing with Jack instead. Jack, who now laid a steady hand on Ianto's shoulder and guided him inside through his exhaustion and shock.

Nothing had changed—but then, this was his past. In the future, all his belongings would have been confiscated by Torchwood, locked away forever. The flat probably belonged to someone else now, since Ianto knew full well Jack would not have kept it for himself. Jack hadn't even attended his funeral, hadn't been able to tell him if there had even been one; who then had stowed his stuff, after Thames House? Gwen? The government? Had it even been necessary, with Torchwood all but destroyed?

"Sit down," said Jack, his voice gentle in that way that had once surprised Ianto, long ago, but now felt so normal and comforting. He nodded wearily and sank down onto the sofa, idly remembering the last time he and Jack had sat there, watching bad television on a rare night off. The memory brought tears to his eyes; it had been only days later that the children had stopped.

"Was this a bad idea?" Jack asked, sounding concerned and uncertain. He had taken off his coat, laying it down on the nearby chair, and stood with his hands in his pockets watching Ianto carefully. Ianto tried again not to think about that last night in his flat— about retreating to the bedroom in a tangle of arms and legs after dinner and television and another glass of wine…

"No, it's fine," he finally said, his voice sounding raw. He cleared his throat. "It's just hard, knowing in the future all of this is…well, different." _Gone,_ he thought to himself.

"I'll make some tea," Jack said, stepping into the kitchen as if needing to escape. Ianto nodded gratefully and stood to walk around, even though he was so exhausted he could have fallen asleep instantly on the sofa.

He gazed at the picture of Lisa on the mantle over the tiny fireplace. He wondered where the stopwatch was that he always set next to it, before remembering that his past self almost certainly had it with him, since he had carried it everywhere. Sighing, he continued a slow circle around the living room…to his bedroom, where he had shared so many nights with Jack, including that last…to the kitchen, where Jack was bustling before the stove.

"Tea's ready," Jack said. "Have a seat." Ianto wandered around the kitchen first before settling down at the table, where Jack placed a steaming mug of chamomile tea before him. "Honey?" he asked. "Lemon?"

Ianto sighed, because his Jack knew how he liked his tea. His Jack had stayed over enough to know all his likes and dislikes, his habits and quirks, just as he knew Jack's. But this Jack was not _his_ Jack and had to ask.

"Just a touch of lemon, please," Ianto replied. Jack nodded.

"I should know that, shouldn't I?' he asked softly, reading Ianto's body language. That was one thing that was the same, anyway: Jack had always picked up on his inner thoughts very quickly.

"It's all right," Ianto replied with a small smile. "Maybe some day."

Jack sat down across from him, cupping his hands around his own warm mug and blowing it cooler. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"About what?"

"The past, the future, whatever happened in both…" Jack trailed off, leaving it open, but Ianto was silent. "I thought maybe coming here would help you open up."

"I can't, Jack," Ianto sighed wearily. "As much as I want to, you know I can't."

"I've got the Retcon," Jack replied, meeting his eyes. "You can give it to me yourself, if you want." Ianto quirked an eyebrow; of course he would, he had already planned on it.

"I still can't…and I don't know if I really want to talk about it." Which wasn't entirely true; he did, but not with this Jack, who hadn't experienced any of it yet. "I'm not sure how it all turned out…after."

"After you died," finished Jack.

"Yes." It was so strange, those words falling from Jack's mouth; always Ianto had been the one asking after Jack's latest death.

Jack was silent for a long time. "Was it my fault?" he finally whispered, his voice nearly falling into his mug.

Ianto closed his eyes and blew out a long breath. How could he lie—yet how could he tell the truth? He didn't blame Jack, not really. Ianto had been the one who had told Jack to stand up to the 456, who had walked into Thames House by his side, who had trained his gun on the tank and demanded the antivirus before opening fire.

"No," he said, opening his eyes with his best attempt at a reassuring smile. "It wasn't your fault."

He must have sounded convincing, because Jack nodded, returning the smile. They sipped their tea in silence again.

Ianto struggled to finish his mug. He was tired, but more than anything, he was suddenly, unexpectedly nervous about leaving his familiar flat and returning to the Hub. He did not know what he would be going back to in the future. Would he still be alive? Would he be a ghost? Or would he simply dissipate and disappear into the darkness of afterlife and forget all he had known, all he had been?

He wanted to stay. It would be so easy, to live instead of die. To stay with Jack, reliving his past, saving his future. Yet Ianto knew he couldn't steal that life from his past self: it was part of who he was now, and the paradoxes involved could affect more than just his future, his life. He had to go back through the Rift, no matter the risks, no matter the consequences…

The nagging thought at the back of his mind surfaced again. The Rift…the consequences…Jack had said Tosh could do it, and he was willing to risk it for Ianto, but when they had opened the Rift for Jack and Tosh, time had splintered, bringing the past and the future together for one horrible day, until the Rift had taken it all back, leaving them with only Abaddon.

"Jack, what's the date again?" Ianto asked, trying to hone in on what was bothering him.

Jack answered with a curious frown. "Why?"

Ianto pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to remember more about that time.

"Have we been to the Electro yet?" he asked suddenly.

"That old cinema downtown?" Jack asked, and Ianto nodded, feeling his heart start to beat quicker as he sensed the answer began to coalesce in his mind. "No, but you said something about it last week. Said it was opening again soon. I think you talked Gwen and Owen into going."

Ianto stared at him. The Electro. The Rift. The Night Travellers. It was all starting to come together, and he suddenly felt like he was going to be sick.

"Oh god," he whispered, and dashed for the bathroom. He leaned over the sink, splashing water on his face before glancing up to stare at his reflection in the mirror. There was a faint scar on his cheek he hadn't even noticed, but remembered too well. Squeezing his eyes shut against it, he took several deep breaths to calm his racing heart, willing himself not to vomit.

He couldn't go back now, not through the Rift. There were consequences after all.

He felt Jack come up behind him, glanced into the mirror to see Jack frowning in concern. "What's wrong?" he asked, turning Ianto around and laying strong, steady hands on his shoulders. "What have you realized?"

Ianto just shook his head in wide-eyed panic. "I can't go back, Jack," he whispered. "There are consequences."

"What do you mean?" asked Jack.

"Opening the Rift," Ianto said. "There are consequences, just like when Owen opened it for you and Tosh. People will die." He ran a hand through his slightly damp hair. "My god, their deaths are my fault."

Jack wrapped his arms around Ianto, holding him tight. "You don't know that," he soothed, rubbing his back.

But Ianto shook himself free and stalked into the bedroom. "But I do. I remember it—I remember the case, everything about it."

Jack followed him, arms crossed over his chest. "Which means it happened, and it still has to happen, then."

"No," Ianto said, glancing up sharply. "Not if I can stop it. I won't have their deaths on my conscience."

"You don't have a choice," Jack said. "You've spent the whole night telling me we can't change the future."

"That was my fate—my life alone!" Ianto exclaimed. He stopped pacing, his agitation suddenly draining him so that he collapsed on the bed, his head falling to his hands. "This isn't about me anymore, it's about all those people who will die, children who will die, _because_ of me."

The bed sank as Jack sat down next to him. "You don't know that. Whatever happened could have been triggered by something else. You said the Electro has a history of Rift activity. It flares when we least expected it—it could have nothing to do with you."

Ianto wanted to believe him, but couldn't. His memories of that particular case—of the silver flask, the Ghostmaker, the one boy who had survived—were too strong, too visceral. "It's too much of a coincidence. I can't take the risk."

"You have to," Jack insisted. "It's the only way, you said so yourself." It was so odd to hear Jack throwing his words back at him, Ianto wasn't sure how to reply. He just knew he could not let those people die, their last breath stolen because he'd used the Rift and somehow allowed the Night Travellers to escape their celluloid prison.

"I'll…I'll create a new identity, go into hiding, like you suggested. Just Retcon me and save them." Ianto looked up into blue eyes filled with pity. "Please. I'll do whatever it takes."

Jack leaned forward and kissed him softly. "You're even more amazing in the future, you know that?"

Ianto shook his head. "Not really," he murmured, touching his lips where Jack had kissed him and remembering his last moments with Jack in Thames House. Again he was so tempted to just give in, to have one last time with Jack before everything changed again. He knew it was wrong, but once more told himself _it was still them_ and neither one of them would remember it in the end. It would just be a blur, a dream, a forgotten memory.

The memory of the first time they had kissed surfaced unexpectedly: the initial surprise and unease, followed by almost frantic groping in the conference room. He remembered their awkward but passionate tryst in the archives the next day, dozens of other stolen moments over time until Jack had left them, left _him,_ disappearing for months, only to return, to _him,_ and ask him on a date in the middle of a dangerous case.

Ianto almost laughed out loud as he remembered that particular moment: Jack's vulnerability, his own flustered surprise and acceptance. Yet John Hart had quickly stolen that moment, twisted it and laid bare Ianto's deep anger and hurt over Jack's betrayal in leaving them, only to return with more secrets. It had taken them a while to work through that, but they had. Jack had meant it when he said he wanted something more, and their first official date had been both amazing and surreal.

Slowly but surely they had grown closer, until Owen and Tosh had left them. And then Jack had pulled away, bitter and angry and defeated. Ianto and Gwen had been certain they would lose him again, but Jack had stayed, distant and different, broken inside, until Ianto had finally pulled back as well. He left Jack to deal with his demons because Ianto had his own to deal with and couldn't be there for a man who wasn't there himself. It had been difficult and lonely, almost worse than when Lisa had died, and Ianto was fairly certain he wasn't the only one who had contemplated leaving Torchwood then; Gwen had suffered too, though she had had Rhys through it all. Ianto had been alone.

Yet once again Jack had come back to him. _To him._ And suddenly Ianto knew what he had to do. _I'll find you,_ this Jack had said. That was the answer.

But if it didn't work, Ianto needed this one night, this one last time. He needed Jack. Because if he disappeared or died, he needed the memory of Jack to cling to in the depths of his soul, especially if he never saw Jack again for the rest of his life—or death.

* * *

Author's Note: 

Infer what you will. ;)

And let me know if you have any questions. I've tried to do my research. And so has past Ianto, coming up next… ;)


	7. Realization

VII. Realization

The coordinates on the screen didn't lie: his future self had come back from The House of the Dead, and Ianto shuddered to think of what that might mean.

Tosh gave him a curious look. "The House of the Dead?" she asked. "The haunted pub?"

"The most haunted pub in all of Wales," Ianto murmured in reply, still trying to think straight when so many things were struggling to work themselves out in his mind. "People go there to meet loved ones who have died."

She shrugged before turning back to her computer. "Sounds like a cheerful place."

"Not really. What was I doing there?" he asked. His mind was whirling with possibilities, most of which were not good.

Tosh was eyeing him strangely. "I don't know, and neither should you. That's future information, Ianto. If we know our future, we'll change it."

Ianto nodded absently in reply. Had he gone to the pub on a Torchwood mission, to investigate something? It sounded like something they might look into, given how often the supernatural turned out to be of alien origin instead. Or had he gone there to meet with a loved one? If so, who had he hoped to meet? The former seemed far more likely as he was not the sort to believe in séances, and the one person he cared about most couldn't die.

But then what was so complicated about the situation? Why were Jack and his future self so concerned about him going back to that point in space and time? It seemed the most logical thing to do after a temporal accident. Did it have something to do with whatever had happened in the House of the Dead that had flung him back to the past? Or maybe he hadn't gone there on Torchwood business, hadn't gone there to meet a lost loved one…maybe someone gone to the pub to meet with _him, _call him back. Which would mean he had already…

"Shit," he murmured under his breath, staring into space as it somehow started to make sense. He shook his head, putting the thought from his mind, refusing to believe it. Tosh gave him another odd look as she continued to work on the equations that would open the Rift.

Running his hands across his face, Ianto tried to reason it out. Jack had left the Hub with his future self. Why? Where had they gone? Perhaps they had just gone for a cup of coffee in the middle of the night, but then why had Jack called Ianto to the Hub? Why not Gwen or Owen, when Ianto was the one person who probably shouldn't be around, for fear of running into his future self, of figuring out what was going on. It was as if Jack needed Ianto out of the way again, yet somewhere he could keep an eye on him. But why?

He almost asked Tosh to do it, then hurried to his own computer, knowing she would protest. He felt like he was once again violating a trust, but he knew, deep down, something was going on that he needed to know. And so he pinged Jack's mobile signal, tracking it to _his,_ Ianto's, own flat.

Jack had taken his future self to his flat.

Swearing in Welsh, Ianto batted the monitor away and began pacing back and forth, one hand at his hip as the other ran raggedly through his hair. Tosh looked up in alarm.

"What's wrong?" she demanded. "What have you found?"

"It's not what I found," he replied. "It's just what I think I found."

"Tell me," she said, but he shook his head. "We're going to be Retconned anyway, you know," she replied, crossing her hands over her chest a bit like Jack did. "Come on, we're friends. Tell me."

"Jack and my future self are at my flat," Ianto finally replied, grimacing at the thought and the image and the complete _bizarreness _of it all.

"That could be awkward, although it's still you," she pointed out with a small smile. "Maybe Jack had a good reason for taking him there."

"It's not that," Ianto said, even though that was certainly part of it. "You told me it was complicated for some reason, sending him back to the future. And then you said you were sending him to the House of the Dead. Something happened in the House of the Dead, Tosh. Something besides whatever Rift accident sent him back."

"What do you mean?" asked Tosh.

"I think my future self is supposed to be dead," Ianto said, his voice falling until it was barely a whisper. "Either someone went to the pub to call him back, or he died there before he fell through the Rift. That's why they're so worried about sending him back: they don't know whether he'll be dead or alive."

Tosh was just staring at him as if he'd gone mad. "He seemed alive when I talked to him."

"It's the Rift, Tosh. Who knows what it can do."

"Then why have they gone back to your place for the night? Why not stay here where it's safer and wait for me to finish the program?"

"Knowing Jack," Ianto said, taking a deep breath, "it's probably to help my future self deal with whatever happened in the future." He grimaced again. "And possibly have a quick shag."

"You don't know that," Tosh said, shaking her head. "That Jack would do that, that something happened to your future self that even needs putting to rest."

"I don't know," he agreed. "It's just a feeling, an instinct. Almost like a future memory trailing back to me, if that makes sense." He sighed and tried to give Tosh a reassuring smile, because she looked alarmed. "Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it was just a simple Rift accident, and everything will be fine when he goes back. Maybe they're just out for coffee."

"I hope so," Tosh said, turning back to her computer. "I don't want to send you back to the future just to be killed again."

"I imagine my future self is not too keen on it either," Ianto murmured.

Tosh must have heard the tone of his voice, because she turned back and smiled, laying a hand on his arm. "It'll all be over one way or the other in a few hours. Then we'll forget about it all, and you can keep planning your trip to the cinema later this week."

He nodded as he turned away, but his brain was racing. There was still something missing, some piece of the puzzle he didn't have, didn't know. Idly turning over the stopwatch in his pocket and playing with the button, Ianto tried to focus. All he knew for sure was that he was supposed to be there, he was supposed to help somehow. And as he watched Tosh finish her work, turning toward him with a triumphant smile as she showed him the equations that would send his future self back to the House of the Dead and the time where he belonged, Ianto knew the first thing he had to do to start making things right.

Tosh had done her part; he and only he would finish the night's strange business now.

* * *

Author's Note:

I'm sorry past Ianto's chapters are so short, that's just the way they are turning out! Is it starting to come together? Oh I can't wait for the next...


	8. Regret

VIII. Regret

Ianto sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands as he took several deep breaths to calm his frazzled nerves. What kind of person had he become that he could do this? He'd just made love to Jack—not his desperate, broken Jack from the future, but the one he remembered from happier times. A part of him knew it was wrong, but another part of him couldn't hold either of them accountable because it was still _them, _wasn't it_? _And yet…he was now the other man in his own relationship with Jack, and it made his head spin to even think about it.

Worse still, he had slept with Jack and then stunned him unconscious as he was getting dressed. Holding the Retcon pill in his hand, Ianto almost groaned out loud at what he was about to do. He had to take Jack's memories, because anything they had said and done over the last several hours would affect the future, and Ianto knew he couldn't allow that to happen. Jack had to forget; time had to follow its own natural course, happen the way it was meant to happen.

Standing wearily, Ianto finished buttoning his shirt, shoved his tie in his pocket, and pulled on his jacket before gazing down at the man lying next to him, regret filling his racing heart. He propped Jack up so he wouldn't choke, but it was still difficult forcing a pill down the throat of an unconscious man, then chasing it with a glass of water. Ianto murmured an apology as it dribbled down Jack's shirt, though it would be dry by the time Jack awoke, and he would be gone. Hopefully.

He kissed Jack on the forehead and was just about to leave when he was startled by the sound of Jack's mobile. Glancing worriedly at Jack, still unconscious from the Retcon, Ianto took a deep breath and picked up the phone from his side table. It was Tosh. Maybe the equations were ready for the Rift. Only, he knew now he couldn't do it. He knew what would happen.

If they opened the Rift, the resulting activity would allow the Night Travellers to come through the Electro, and people would die. He couldn't doom all those people—all but one small boy—to death just so he could return to an uncertain future. He had no choice: he could not open the Rift. He had to find another way back, and though his plan seemed impossible and insane, he had to try.

He would go to the Hub, stun his past self, Retcon Tosh, and create a new identity just in case his idea didn't work. He'd done the last before, for others who had fallen through the Rift. Only they had come from the past into the future; they had not needed to avoid themselves because they had disappeared from their own lives. Ianto hoped he would not have to do that, because he wasn't sure how he could live knowing what he knew, not intervening in the future so it played out as his history told him it must.

The mobile rang again. Tosh. Thinking it might be an emergency, Ianto reluctantly answered the phone…only to hear his own voice on the other end.

"I know what's going on," his past self said, and Ianto felt goosepimples break out on the back of his neck at the sound of his own voice speaking to him on the other end of phone. "I can help you."

"Tosh was helping me," Ianto snapped without thinking. Of course his past self had figured it out: he remembered suspecting something was wrong that night. That still did not stop his sudden sense of panic. "What did you do to her?"

"I put Retcon in her coffee," said his other self, sounding regretful. "She's fine, she's asleep again. The equations are done. Where's Jack?"

"You know he's here," said Ianto. "Just like you must have known I would answer the phone." But he was confused: he didn't remember _this _happening at all.

"I did," the other replied. "You stunned him, didn't you?"

Ianto blew out a breath as his eyes fell closed. "Yes," he finally replied. "But how did you know that? Why are you doing this?"

"Because I know you," replied his past self. "You were going to Retcon Tosh and open the Rift alone. I can at least clean up after you."

"And then what?" asked Ianto. He didn't bother correcting his past self about the Rift, because the less the other man knew the better. "You shouldn't know about this. There's already been too much damage done to our timeline."

"You know me," said the other man. "You _are_ me. You don't remember any of this conversation, do you?"

"No," said Ianto.

"That's because I've got my own cup of coffee with a Retcon pill right here and ready. I'll take it the moment you step through."

"How do I know you'll do it?"

"Because you just said you don't remember any of this happening."

Ianto shook his head; time travel was such a headache. "What about Jack and Tosh?" he asked. "What happens to them?"

"I'm cleaning up the Hub to make sure there's no trace of anything. Tosh won't remember the last several hours, and I'm assuming you've already Retconned Jack?"

"Yes," replied Ianto. "But you know he could wake up at any moment. We don't have much time."

"Then get here fast," said his other self.

Ianto nodded to himself and almost hung up. "Wait!" he exclaimed. "We can't open the Rift. I can't do it that way. There are consequences." He might not tell the other man everything, but he could at least make sure his past self didn't try to open the Rift.

There was silence on the other end of the line. "You mean, like with Abaddon?" asked his past self.

"Not as bad, no," replied Ianto. "But opening the Rift will increase local activity, and people will die."

Again there was silence. "Then we can't do that, can we?"

"No."

"I can freeze you," said his past self. Ianto almost laughed, it was so ridiculous: it was the same conversation he'd had with Jack earlier, only now he was talking to himself. He was fairly certain he was violating every rule of space-time travel, but what was to be done? He just had to fix it now.

"It won't work. The Hub is destroyed before I come back in time. I'd just be destroyed with it."

"I see." Another pause; Ianto could almost imagine his past self trying not to panic at the sudden influx of revelations about his bleak future. "Then I'll start working on a new identity, like we did with Emma Cowell. You'll have to go into hiding, start a new life. It'll be ready when you get here."

Ianto shook his head; he was nothing if not consistent, in the past and the future. It was surreal. "That's exactly what I was thinking. I'll be there in ten minutes." He hoped he wouldn't have to use that new identity, live that new life, but time would only tell if his plan worked. He made sure he had the stun gun in his pocket, since he would probably need it again soon.

"I'll see you then," said his past self. "Hopefully the world won't end when we meet."

And Ianto laughed, because it was all so completely, utterly absurd. "It doesn't. I don't remember the end of the world."

Then again, the world, and his memory, was changing with every word he said.

* * *

Author's Note

I have to admit, I get a little tingle just imagining two Ianto's speaking in that Welsh accent to one another.

Also, it might be a few extra days until I post the next chapter. Don't worry, the story is done, it just needs a solid editing, but I don't know if I'll have internet access this weekend. So I thought I'd leave you with this nice little cliffhanger in the meantime. Enjoy and thank you so much for all the amazing reviews!


	9. Responsibility

IX. Responsibility

Ianto set down the phone and glanced at Tosh, sleeping soundly once more on the couch. When she woke she would simply assume she had fallen asleep there after a late night, perhaps a bit stiff but hopefully with few other side effects. She wouldn't remember any of the computer work and equations she had completed to send Ianto's future self back to where he belonged, and hopefully she wouldn't think to go looking for it. He had done his best to destroy all evidence of her work, though if anyone could find it, she could.

Ianto wasn't exactly sure why he had slipped her the Retcon. She was certainly the most logical choice to help Jack and his future self, yet Ianto had a gut instinct that he was supposed to be the one doing this. Some small voice screamed at him that in spite of everything he knew about time travel, that he needed to be the one to help his future self. It tugged at him every time he thought about it: he was a part of the puzzle, somehow.

While he waited, Ianto went into the computer and wiped out the CCTV footage he had managed to pull up earlier. Jack might be their fearless leader, and he might know a lot about alien technology, but he had never really got computers like him or Tosh. And after his botched attempts at deleting the CCTV footage of Dr. Tanizaki, Ianto had made sure to learn how to do it right; once again, a questionable skill learned under dubious circumstances was turning out to be useful.

After cleaning up some more so that everything appeared as normal as possible, he checked on Tosh, tucking the blanket around her once again, and then simply waited, idly fingering the stopwatch in his pocket. He was both nervous and excited, curious and terrified about coming face to face with this man who had lived his life into the future; he wondered if the universe might really implode when they met.

All too soon he heard the cog doors opening. Taking a deep breath, Ianto turned to face his future, not sure what to expect.

The other man stopped at the door, staring at him, equally as stunned. It was almost dreamlike, watching someone who looked just like him—who _was_ him—enter the Hub, and they had both experienced many, many fantastic things at Torchwood. This, however, was beyond anything else. It was not every day you came face to face with yourself, even when you worked on top of a rift in space-time.

"Well, then," said his future self. "Told you the world wouldn't end tonight."

Ianto shook himself, the strange electric feeling he'd noticed several times that night charging his skin to a tight, pricky tingling that was almost uncomfortable. He felt an odd light-headedness as the other man slowly came toward him.

"You feel it too, then?" asked his future self. Ianto nodded.

"Some sort of temporal effect? The same person occupying the same time?"

The other man shrugged. "I have no idea. Technically I'm not exactly the same person as you. But then, none of this really makes much sense to me."

"Me neither." Ianto couldn't help but stare. His future self did not look that much older, but somehow looked more…experienced. And weary, definitely weary. As if he'd been through hell in however many years had passed. There was a faint scar on his cheek, more lines around his eyes, a sad set to his mouth. Ianto had always known Torchwood would be the end of him, but he had never expected to the proof, standing right before his eyes.

"So what happened in the House of the Dead?" he asked, holding the other's gaze as he boldly asked the question he'd been thinking about all night, ever since he had started to understand. The familiar blue eyes he saw in the mirror every morning widened in surprise.

"How do you know—?" his future self asked. "Never mind. I should have guessed you'd figure it out."

Ianto inclined his head. "So did you die there, or were you already dead?"

The other man hesitated before answering. "Both."

"Shit." Ianto hung his head: just like that, he had his death sentence. A little over a year. One year and this is what he'd look like, what he'd sound like, what he would be like. One more year with Torchwood, with Jack…it seemed unfair, and with another curse he turned away, until he heard his future self approach.

"It's been a long night," the other man said softly. "Let's be done with this, before it gets worse."

Ianto whirled on him. "How can it get worse? I just found out when I'm going to die. That I have one year left here, with my family, with Jack…" He stopped, taking a deep breath. "Tell me what happens."

"You know I can't."

"The hell you can't!" Ianto exclaimed. "I know too much already, and I won't remember anything anyway." He held up a large cup of cold coffee and the Retcon pill he'd taken from Jack's office. "You might as well tell me the lot of it."

His future self was watching him with a look of pity, and Ianto hated that look, he always had. He especially hated seeing it on his own face, knowing it was for him. Why had this happened? What was the point of it all, to know something but not be able to do anything about it? He threw his hands up in disgust, and his future self nodded in sympathy.

"I know it's hard," said the man from out of time. "Believe me, I understand. I know exactly what happens in the future and I can't change it. Which is why I can't tell you—I won't tell you. I won't do that to you."

"Because it's so bad?" Ianto asked bitterly.

There was a pause. "In some ways, yes. It's a difficult, painful year. But it's also a good year…for you and Jack."

That stopped him. Ianto closed his eyes and sighed. "What do you mean?" he asked, shaking his head, completely confused: how could it be both? And why did it always have to be so complicated between him and Jack?

The other man took a step forward, reaching out and then seeming to think better of it. "I will tell you this: Jack loves you. He may not say it now, but he will say it one day, I promise."

Ianto studied the man before him, the look on his face as he spoke about Jack—a Jack from the future Ianto didn't know yet. The other man's face was peaceful, a small smile touched with sadness passing across his features as his eyes seemed to gaze inward at fond memories. Ianto asked the one question he had to know then, more than anything.

"Is it worth it?"

His future self nodded. "Yes. Yes, it's worth it."

With that calm, confident reassurance, Ianto suddenly felt much better. He felt the panic and anxiety dissipate, leaving him feeling slightly bittersweet, but relieved: the future may be difficult, but at least it would be worth it.

Ianto coughed to clear his throat. "Well, let's finish this up then. Before anyone comes back." He stopped as he realized something. "Where is Jack anyway? Where did you leave him?"

"He's still at your flat," his future self replied, his hands in his suit pocket as he walked closer. There was a strange look on his face, as if he were avoiding looking as his past self. "There was really no way for me to get him here after I'd stunned him. He's out cold for now."

Ianto nodded. "He is a large, heavy man, especially when he's dead or unconscious." He narrowed his eyes. "But what's he going to think, waking up at my flat if I wake up here?"

His future self shrugged in return. "Probably that you were supposed to meet him there, but fell asleep at work before you could leave."

"Maybe I should go back to the flat, then—take the Retcon there. It would look less suspicious."

His future self just shook his head. "It doesn't matter. And I need you here."

Something felt wrong. The way his future self was looking at him felt all wrong, like he was about to do something that he already regretted. Ianto stepped back, suddenly wary, which felt ridiculous, because he was facing himself, and he wouldn't do anything to hurt himself, would he?

"There's something else going on here. Tell me."

The other man stopped and sighed. "Do you have the stopwatch?"

"Always."

Two quick steps forward, and Ianto found a stun gun placed to his shoulder.

"Then I'm really sorry, but there's been a change in plans."

As the current arched through him, stealing his consciousness, Ianto Jones wondered what role he had played in saving his future self after all. He had been so certain he'd needed to be there; now his future self would have to find his way alone—and Ianto wouldn't remember a thing.

* * *

Author's notes:

Almost there! Hope you enjoyed their meeting. What in the world does future Ianto have in mind?

Thanks again for all the amazing feedback! I'm so glad this story is being enjoyed. I may be a little late responding to reviews this week, but I definitely will once I am able, especially if you have any questions! Thanks again!


	10. Found

X. Found

Ianto literally caught himself—_there was a mind-bending thought—_and carefully lowered his past self to the floor as the man lost consciousness, arms tingling from the strange, almost electric touch. Searching through both trouser pockets, Ianto found what he was looking for, what he had missed ever since he had come back—and what would hopefully be the key to his salvation.

The stopwatch.

Taking it over to the computer station, Ianto cleared a space and set the watch down. Then he hurried down to the autopsy bay, searching for the laser scalpel. He wasn't sure it would work, but he had to try; he'd use a penknife if he needed to. His hands were shaking when he returned, so he set it down with the stopwatch, pulled up a chair, and took several deep breaths. It had to work; he would not open the Rift, and he did not want to give up the only life he knew for a new identity as someone else.

Setting the laser scalpel to the very finest setting possible, Ianto squinted at the smooth metal back of the stopwatch and began to slowly etch the message he'd carefully composed in his mind while driving to the Hub. It was not perfect—his hands were still unsteady—but it appeared to be working. He worked as quickly yet as carefully as he could, sometimes holding his breath, stopping twice when his hand cramped up.

Finally it was done. He had been hunching over his station and sat up straight to stretch out. Holding the stopwatch up to the light, Ianto nodded to himself: it was legible, if enigmatic. Maybe it would actually work, but there was still more to do.

Turning toward his computer, Ianto composed an email message to Jack. It was just a few short sentences, but hopefully it would make enough of an impression that one day in the future Jack would remember and it would all come together. Hesitating over the send key, knowing that he was inevitably changing the future in some way, Ianto closed his eyes, took another deep breath, and hit return.

And then he waited, consequences be damned. He couldn't let those people die by the Night Travellers because he opened the Rift. He wouldn't.

He checked on Tosh and made sure that everything she'd worked on that evening had been completely erased by his past self. He propped his past self up at the computer station so he'd wake up thinking he'd just fallen asleep at the keyboard, slipping the stopwatch back into his trouser pocket with the keys to the car. He wished he'd been able to bring Jack back to the Hub, but there had been no way to drag the unconscious man down from his flat, to the SUV, and into the Hub without arousing suspicion. And if Jack were to wake up, he would probably try to stop him.

Ianto thought about the messages he'd sent, then glanced at the time on the computer. One more minute. He'd give it ten; if it didn't work, then he would have to disappear into anonymity after all. He almost pulled up the false identity his past self had been working on, but he couldn't give up yet. There was still time: time was fluid, just as Jack had said earlier that night. The ripples Ianto had set in motion should flow quickly across eternity if he had done everything he needed.

Closing his eyes, Ianto took a deep breath. _There was still time._ How ironic. When he'd needed time, back in London, there had been none, and now it felt like he'd been waiting forever to get back to wherever he belonged. And if his plan worked, he might have all the time in the world. He closed his eyes, imagining a future he thought he'd never see…

"Ianto?"

He blew out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding as he turned around with a crooked half-smile.

"Hi, Jack."

Jack glanced around the Hub, a sad, wistful look on his face. He paused when he saw Ianto's past self sleeping at the computer, frowning in confusion before raising his eyes. "I got your message."

"I hoped you would," Ianto said, standing and facing the man before him. Jack looked the same, hardly older but certainly more…careworn. Burdened. Full of deep sorrow and regret. "How long did it take?" Ianto asked, wondering how many years it had been for Jack.

Jack shrugged as he glanced around once more. "A hundred years or so." He stepped closer, his eyes bright as he gazed into Ianto's face. "Is it really you?" he asked, his voice quiet, as if he were afraid of the answer. "Alive? Here?"

Ianto nodded and moved closer as well. This wasn't his Jack, the Jack he had left at Thames House and again at the House of the Dead; this was an older, sadder Jack—but it was still Jack, a Jack he could be with if the universe would let him. "It's really me, Jack."

"But what happened?" asked Jack, a rare look of confusion clouding his face. "What's going on?"

"It's complicated," Ianto murmured with a quirk of his eyebrow and another small smile. Jack's mouth dropped open.

"God, I missed your voice," he whispered. "Your face. You." With two quick steps, he closed the distance between them, taking Ianto in a breathtaking kiss that shocked him to his very core. Jack_ had_ missed him, Ianto could feel it like he had never felt it before. Just as when he had kissed past Jack in the autopsy bay earlier that night, and Jack had felt the difference in their relationship, now Ianto felt everything his death had meant to this Jack from the future. He stepped back, almost gasping for air.

"I need your help," he said breathlessly, though he would have gladly kept going. But he knew the other Jack could arrive at any moment, and he didn't want to be caught in that particular triangle.

"I can see that," Jack said, with a small grin and a cock of his head toward the man at the computer. "Since there are two of you here and that's not usually a good thing for timelines. Although I could certainly think of some—"

"You already did," Ianto laughed, relieved to know some things never changed. "And it's still not going to happen. I'm from the future. The Rift spit me out in the past. Can you take me somewhere—or sometime else, before this timeline is completely changed?"

Jack nodded slowly. "Yes, I think so. When are you from?"

"Just over a year from now," Ianto replied, watching Jack closely. "Right after we met in the House of the Dead. Do you remember that?"

Jack gave him a puzzled look. "Of course I remember," he said, shaking his head as if trying to make sense of it. "I went there to see you, and you left me again." Blue eyes rose to meet his, filled with old grief. "I told you, I work hard to remember the people I've loved and lost."

"And I accused you of making it sound like charity work," Ianto replied, almost hanging his head but meeting Jack's gaze. "I'm sorry. I was wrong."

Jack eyed him strangely, as if he were finally starting to understand what had happened. "So when you went back into the pub with the bomb…" he started.

"…the Rift spit me out here in the Hub," Ianto finished for him. "In the past."

"Alive."

"Yes."

Jack shook his head as if he couldn't believe it. "Has anyone seen you?" he asked, glancing around in concern.

"Of course—I've been here most of the night," replied Ianto, following Jack's gaze around the Hub. It must be hard for Jack to be back, when the last time they had stood there together Jack had been about to explode, taking the Hub and all of Torchwood Three with him. "They've all been Retconned."

Jack turned back to him. "By you?" he asked, and Ianto shook his head.

"My past self Retconned Tosh after he figured out what was going on. I Retconned you and me and cleaned up as best as I could." He shook his head. "I told you it was complicated."

"I don't remember any of this happening," Jack murmured.

"We couldn't," Ianto pointed out. "That would change the future."

"I remember waking up at your flat," Jack continued, as if struggling to pull up memories decades old. "You were here, and we had lost some time, but that's it. We never knew what had really happened."

"Now we know why. Speaking of which, I really need to get back before time changes."

"Well, the Reapers haven't arrived, so I don't think time has changed yet." Jack flipped open his vortex manipulator, took Ianto's hand, then stopped. "But where to? You don't want to go back to the House of the Dead, do you?" The longing in Jack's voice tore at Ianto's heart. Of course he didn't want to go back, but he wasn't entirely sure what his options were yet.

"What happened after I took the bomb into the Rift?" he asked. A slow grin spread over Jack's face.

"It's gone. Destroyed—the pub and the Rift." He reached over to touch Ianto's cheek, brushing his finger against the light scar there. "You helped save the world again."

"So there's nothing there to really go back to…" Ianto left the sentence unfinished, hoping against hope that Jack would come to the same conclusion he had.

"Not really," Jack said softly. "We were all declared dead as a result of what happened with the 456. Gwen and Rhys went into hiding, and I left the planet." His face tightened as the memories from that time came back to him, and Ianto squeezed his hand in understanding.

"It's not your fault," he said, knowing exactly what was going through Jack's mind, and Jack shook his head.

"No, it was my fault—all of it. It always is. But I stopped them, at a terrible cost…" His eyes seemed to be gazing back into the past, and Ianto knew he would ask Jack about it one day, but not then. Right then he just needed to know.

"Jack, can you take me anywhere, anytime with your manipulator?" he asked, and Jack nodded.

"Yes, as long as we don't cross our own timelines too much. It gets a bit complicated then."

"It already is. So theoretically I could go to any point in time _after_ the House of the Dead without potentially destroying the fabric of the universe?" Ianto asked, still hoping against hope it was possible.

"I think so. You died in your own timeline, but you're alive now and you can't stay here in his. And I'm not losing you again," Jack said, pulling Ianto close. "I'm going to save you this time."

"Then take me with you," Ianto said. "To your time."

Jack kissed him again, quick but passionate. "You're brilliant, you know."

"I have my moments," Ianto replied dryly, too tired to be any more original. "And this one is almost over. We should go."

"Hang on," said Jack, stepping toward an empty computer console and logging in. "You sent me an email so I would understand what to do someday, I remember that. I want to leave you one."

"Won't that change the future again?" asked Ianto, even though he knew he could very well be doing that very thing by refusing to open the Rift. He wondered what exactly the Reapers were, knowing instinctively that he did not want to meet them. He could only hope saving those people did not change history so dramatically.

Jack shook his head. "Our past selves will wonder about it, but it won't make sense until it's meant to make sense. It's like cryptic instructions for the future so things happen as they're supposed to. Plus a bit of reassurance that things will turn out all right." He paused. "I think we deserve that after all we'll go through, don't you?"

Ianto watched as Jack typed a short email and hit send without hesitating. He nodded as he remembered waking up after falling asleep at his computer console and reading it. Jack had had a similar message from him, and neither of them had been able to make heads or tails of whatever had happened to them that night. But the notes they'd left for one another had obviously echoed down the corridors of time, because Jack had come for him. He had found Ianto, just like his past self had said he would.

"Do you still have it?" Ianto asked suddenly, and Jack nodded wordlessly. He pulled the battered old stopwatch from his pocket and tossed it to Ianto. Tracing the words on the back, Ianto shook his head in wonder.

"I just did this, literally twenty minutes ago," he murmured. "Time is an amazing thing. Always rippling, just like you said." Glancing up at Jack, he cocked his head sideways. "When did you take it? After Thames House?" When Jack nodded, Ianto once more touched the inscription on the back. "And when did you understand what to do?"

Jack was silent as he logged out and turned back to Ianto. "I think I always had some idea, I just didn't realize how complicated it was. I wandered for a long time before I came to the House of the Dead, thinking about what it meant after you died. I had really hoped the inscription was referring to the pub."

"The date wasn't right," Ianto murmured, and Jack shrugged.

"I know. I spent a hundred years trying to find a working vortex manipulator to bring me back to the right day, the right time." He held up his wrist. "I finally managed to fix mine about an hour ago. Cost me quite a bit off to talk the parts off some old marketeer in Solar City who could barely remember his name. I came as soon as I could."

Ianto wasn't sure what to say. Jack had spent one hundred years trying to figure out a way to come back for him. Which meant he hadn't forgotten Ianto after all.

"I told you I would find you," Jack whispered, motioning toward the computer.

"So did your past self," Ianto replied. "Which was how I knew what to do. There was no other way."

Jack kissed Ianto's forehead. "This way is perfect. You've got a second chance."

"Thanks to you," Ianto replied.

"Thanks to _you," _Jack said. "You walked into the Rift. You figured out how to send me a message in the future with the stopwatch. You've given _us_ a second chance, Ianto Jones."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Ianto said. "Let's see this future you've been living."

And this time Jack grinned as began to program his wrist strap. "I know a great little coffee shop in the 22nd century. And I think our French restaurant is still there, too."

With one quick keystroke, Ianto turned and deleted the new identity his past self had constructed for him earlier that night and logged out of his computer. He would not need it now, for it had worked: he had found another way. Ianto glanced around the Hub one more time, knowing it would be the last time he ever saw it. He thought about how much he had lost there, and how much he had gained. Torchwood had taken so much from him, and yet somehow, thanks to the Rift, he'd been given a second chance to live a life free of it, a life he had only imagined in his dreams.

A life with Jack.

* * *

Author's Note:

And there you have it. I have been so nervous about posting this! Did you see it coming? If you're still not sure what just happened, I'll post the epilogue as soon as I figure it out myself. Kidding. I always knew where it was going. I hope you enjoyed it. Epilogue coming up soon, because there are still a few things to wrap up, aren't there? Thank you for reading!


	11. Epilogue

Epilogue

Ianto woke to a hand shaking his shoulder. He was slumped over his computer station, resting on his arms. His head was sore and his mouth tasted like cotton. Disoriented, he tried to blink away the confusion as feeling slowly returned to his tingling hands.

"Jack?" he said, glancing up and finding the other man standing there gently waking him. "What's going on? Did I actually fall asleep at my computer?"

"Tosh must have got to the couch first," said Jack, and whereas normally he would have grinned and taken every opportunity to give Ianto a hard time for it, this time Jack looked serious for some reason. "And I woke up in your bed."

"Wait, what?" Ianto sat up straighter and tried to focus through his confusion. Jack looked as rumpled and bewildered as Ianto felt. Something strange was going on. "What were you doing at my flat?"

"I have no idea," Jack shrugged. "Considering you weren't there. Maybe you were supposed to meet me?"

"You don't remember?" Ianto asked, and Jack shook his head, glancing around the Hub as if looking for answers. Ianto felt a chill go through him.

"Neither do I." He took a deep breath and turned toward his computer. Logging in, he pulled up all the computer records from the last twelve hours, but was dismayed to see that the security cameras had been off for most of the night. Bringing them back online, he checked to make sure there were no hidden intruders or other emergencies.

"Everything looks clear," he said, "except for a Rift spike earlier in the night, down in autopsy. And a smaller one about an hour ago, right around here." He heard the uncertainty in his voice and knew Jack felt it as well from the way the man was standing behind him, leaning forward and frowning at the screen.

"Something's not right. I remember that first one, but nothing after that."

"I do too," Ianto replied. "Tosh caught it. What do you think happened?"

"I don't know," said Jack, arms crossed as he stood up straight and continued to frown at the screen. "Log in as me."

Ianto gave him a sideways glance. "What's your password?"

"You know it," Jack replied with a roll of his eyes. "And I know you know it, so just go ahead and do it."

Ianto hid a grin as he turned to another monitor and logged into Jack's system.

"Check the CCTV footage. See if anything was deleted."

Ianto went into the files and quickly found what he was looking for. "Yes, it appears a few minutes were deleted, but they can't be recovered. Whoever deleted them knew what they were doing."

Jack glanced over at Tosh, who was still sleeping on the sofa with a cold pizza on the table nearby. Ianto shook his head, knowing perfectly well Tosh wasn't the only one who could wipe the computer records like that; he'd learned to do it right after botching it with Lisa. "She's not the only one, you know."

"What the hell is going on?" Jack muttered.

"I remember going to get the pizza," Ianto replied, leaning back and running a hand through his hair as he struggled to piece together fuzzy images from the night. "And I remember we were going to go Weevil hunting—that Rift spike must brought them out—only you stayed behind with Tosh." His hands stopped as he found a sore spot in the back of his head. "Apparently I didn't do so well with the Weevils. Must have been hit fairly hard."

"But I didn't go with you," Jack said. "So I didn't get hit, and I don't remember anything after that either. Why don't I remember anything?"

An alert sounded on the computer.

"You've got email." Ianto paused. "From me, about an hour ago."

"Maybe you emailed me to tell me what's going on."

"I doubt it, as I'm fairly certain I was unconscious," Ianto replied dryly. "And I certainly don't know what's going on."

"Well, let's see it then," Jack said, and Ianto opened the mysterious email he had apparently sent Jack in the middle of the night.

_Jack,  
__If anything should happen to me, I want you to take the stopwatch. I'll be counting on you to find me. Don't be late. Time is eternity.  
__IJ_

Jack turned and stared at Ianto. "That almost sounds like a will. Why would you write something like that? And what does it mean?"

"I have no idea what it means, Jack." Ianto just stared at the screen, completely confused by the message. "I don't remember writing it at all."

"It does sound like you, though," Jack said. "Do you still have the watch?"

"Always," said Ianto, and he pulled it from his pocket. Yet as his hands touched the normally smooth metal, he felt something different on the back.

"There's something here," he said softly, turning it over. "This wasn't there when I put it in my pocket. I've never seen it before."

"What is it?" asked Jack.

Ianto stared at the watch. "Some sort of inscription, with today's date." He held it out to Jack, who turned it over in his hands.

_Time is Eternity  
__19-3-2009  
__05:30__  
_

"What do you think it means?" asked Ianto. Jack was staring at the watch, then at the Rift, then at the computer.

"I think we might have had some visitors tonight," he said.

"Then why don't we—ahh," said Ianto, nodding. "We've been Retconned."

Jack nodded, still frowning at the watch. "Most likely. Check your email, maybe you have a note from me that will tell us more."

Ianto turned back to his own monitor and found that he did have an email from Jack. He opened it and his jaw went slack. Turning away so that Jack couldn't see his face, he let Jack read it over his shoulder.

_Ianto,  
__One day I will keep the stopwatch, and I will find you. I promise. Time is eternity.  
__JH__  
_

Jack just stared at the screen before he turned Ianto's chair around to face him. "I don't think we sent those emails," he said slowly, and Ianto nodded in agreement, since neither made any sense to him. "Someone else did…and I think it might have been our future selves. That second spike was small enough to be a vortex manipulator harnessing some extra Rift energy."

"What?" asked Ianto, struggling to understand. "You think our future selves were here, tonight? Wouldn't that change the timeline, especially leaving us…" He gestured at the computer, at a loss for words. "…notes about the future?" Jack shook his head.

"But they didn't really tell us anything we'd understand, did they? Or if they did, they Retconned us so we don't remember. This is just something important we need to know in order for the future to play out the way it's supposed to for them. I have to keep the stopwatch someday—"

"—in order to find me." Ianto paused to let it sink in. "I wonder what happens."

"I have no idea," Jack murmured, gazing into Ianto's eyes. "But it couldn't be that bad, could it? I promised I would find you."

"It sounds like we're, well…" Ianto couldn't look away; his heart was racing.

"Close," murmured Jack.

"Very close," said Ianto, and Jack cocked his head slightly, a small smile on his lips.

"I could live with that," he replied, and he began to move lean in toward Ianto.

"So could I," Ianto murmured back before Jack bent down to kiss him. Ianto felt it immediately, the difference in this kiss, and he knew Jack felt it as well because he pulled away as if surprised, breathing quickly but still grinning. He laid his forehead against Ianto's.

"We should go. Figure it out later."

"Right," said Ianto, hurriedly turning off the computer screens as he tried to calm his own racing heart. Out of the corner of his eye he spied Tosh beginning to stir on the sofa. "What about Tosh? We can't just leave her here. She's obviously been Retconned as well."

Jack turned and glanced at her fondly. "Then we'll drop her off at home and explain it to her as best we can."

"Explain what?" asked Ianto, because he still wasn't entirely certain what had happened.

"I'm really not sure," replied Jack slowly. "But for once I think I'm okay with that. Something important happened here tonight. We'll just have to wait for time to catch up with itself before we figure out what it was."

"And if we don't?" Ianto asked, standing and rubbing bleary eyes. It was almost too complicated to think about, with his head still hurting and the effects of the Retcon working its way out of his system. He felt like he should be more concerned about whatever had happened in the Hub that night, but he wasn't. Some instinct told him it was all right not to worry.

To his surprise, Jack took his hand and pulled him close for another kiss. "We will, one day. I think our future selves proved it by coming here tonight."

Ianto rolled his eyes with a small smile. "That makes no sense, Jack, but I'll trust you. Apparently I already have. Or I will."

"I said I'd find you," Jack replied, unusually serious as he held Ianto's gaze. "And I believe that, Ianto. No matter what happens to either of us, we will find each other. I promise."

Tosh stirred again, distracting Ianto from the lump forming in his throat. He did not want to be lost, in order to be found. And he did not want to lose Jack, though he would do anything to find him if that day ever came. It felt strange, suddenly realizing something he had been feeling for a while, but had never given real thought to, let alone been forced to acknowledge. Yes, he and Jack had some sort of intimate, personal relationship. There were dates and talking, long nights spent together and great sex. He had not really thought it would develop into anything more, though, knowing Jack as he did. Yet, just like that, it had.

He loved Jack. And deep down, he knew Jack loved him, in Jack's own, complicated way. The echoes of whatever had happened to them in the future had rippled through to the past, and Ianto knew without a doubt that one day Jack would find him, whatever happened. The realization almost terrified him, but he squeezed Jack's hand in response.

"I know," he said, his voice low and choked. He cleared his throat. "I know that, Jack. But right now, tonight, let's just live this life, this day, and not worry about what happens in the future."

"I couldn't agree more," Jack replied, his voice equally as husky. "But not here. Let's go."

As they shut down the Hub, setting the Rift monitors to remote, Ianto glanced around and wondered once more just what had really occurred there that night. They woke Tosh and tried to explain things as best as they could, but she was still groggy and slept most of the way back to her flat. Helping her inside, they assured her once again everything was all right before they headed back to Ianto's flat together.

It wasn't that they hadn't spent nights there before, yet somehow this felt different, just as when they had kissed. Jack seemed unusually quiet and contemplative as he entered the flat. Ianto headed immediately into the kitchen, his first impulse to make tea. Apparently he had already made some earlier that night, perhaps when Jack had been there? Two empty cups sat in the sink. It was a note on the table, however, that drew his immediate attention.

It was his handwriting, though he did not remember writing it.

_Time is eternity.  
__And it's worth it.__  
_

Closing his eyes against a sudden influx of swirling emotions, Ianto took a deep breath to steady himself. He left the tea unmade and hurried back to where Jack was standing against the doorway to the bedroom, gazing at the unmade bed with a thoughtful look on his face. Wrapping his arms around Jack from behind, Ianto simply held him tight, pressing a kiss into the crook of his shoulder. He felt Jack sigh and knew he was smiling, before he turned to kiss Ianto, quickly pulling him toward the bed.

And in that moment, Ianto did not worry about anything—about Jack, about the Rift, about the future. Whatever happened would happen the way it was meant to happen, he believed that now.

And he also knew that it would be worth it.

* * *

Author's Note:

The End!

Thank you so much for reading this story. Your reviews have given me tremendous support. Time travel is so hard, I hope I've done it justice!

If you are still wondering about anything, feel free to ask. As for the Night Travellers, did you notice the second spike? The one Jack thought could be a vortex manipulator? Maybe that triggered it. Or maybe Ianto triggered it when he came back. Or maybe it was neither and just a random event. But it still happens—canon girl here—which was why the Reapers didn't appear. I think. I'm so brain dead now I need to write some fluff. Unfortunately, most of my other ideas are just as complicated. But there will be more. I love this show and these characters too much to not keep them alive a bit longer.

Thank you again for reading and for all the lovely reviews!


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